Mary Stu Got Harried
by ozma914
Summary: postChosen: A group of watchers and slayers taking a creative writing class get a simple lesson in author intrusion. But nothing’s simple when magic is in the air. Crossover, sort of, with Star Wars, the Oz books, and My Chemical Romance.
1. What Could Possibly Go Wrong?

**Crossover with:** Star Wars, the Oz books by L. Frank Baum, and My Chemical Romance. Sort of. In a way. All 14 chapters are complete except for a final go-through.

**Characters**: Tara, Dana, Buffybot, Andrew, Xander; appearances by Giles, Willow and Kennedy, and some surprises. Also an original watcher who is absolutely not, in any way, the author, and three original slayers who have absolutely no connection to anyone I know. Honest. Would I lie?

**Thanks for much to Ainon for her typically great betaing skills!** All characters who belong to Joss and co, belong to Joss and co.

Note: This is a serious story, in a manner of speaking, in that it's not farce or satire. It's set in my fictional universe in which magical spells have helped heal Dana's mind and the Buffybot's body, and may also have had an effect on the resident ghost -- Tara. None of which means things don't get a bit ... whimsical.

**---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------**

**MARY STU GOT HARRIED**

**Chapter One **_in which a suspiciously inordinate amount of time is spent describing non-canon characters)_

**What Could Possibly Go Wrong?**

_The unmoving bodies of the slayer team lay scattered on a bluff overlooking the Mississippi River. A caped, black clad figure loomed over them at the edge of the cliff, laughing. "You fools have no power over me. You have no idea what I'm capable of."_

_"I do," said a voice._

_The being swung around, incensed that anyone could still be defying him, and saw a lone man standing by a copse of trees. "Who are you?"_

_"Richard Philips, Watcher." The middle aged man, wearing glasses, his dark hair blowing in the breeze, looked completely unthreatening even as he walked toward the Dark Mage._

_"And what makes you think I won't simply blast you away, as I did them?" The evildoer waved his hand to encompass four unconscious slayers, along with another watcher and a now powerless robot. Even Tara McClay, a spirit who shouldn't have been affected, had succumbed to his bolt of black magic._

_"Because you think I can't beat you." Richard walked forward, stepping over broken weapons and craters caused by explosions of magical energy._

_"You can't!" the mage insisted, laughing as Richard drew closer._

_"I have no magic." The watcher kept walking. "I have no weapons. I have no slayer powers."_

_"Exactly!" the mage roared, as Richard got close to arm's length. "And I have no weaknesses!"_

_"You have one."_

_"And what, pray tell, would that be?"_

_"Overconfidence."_

_When he got to the evil being, Richard didn't stop walking. He simply reached out, shoving with both hands. With a surprised cry, the mage fell over the edge of the cliff and plummeted down, into the dark, cold river._

-#-

Richard finished his tale and looked around, to find his class staring at him in silence. "Those of you who were there: Could it have happened that way, if I'd been present?"

There was a pause, before Bottie, who'd breathlessly recounted the real story just before class began, raised her hand. "Um, the black mage was never anywhere close to the cliff edge -- he stayed in the center of the clearing."

"Besides," Teagan the slayer added, "The cliff was only about ten feet high."

"And he wouldn't let anyone near him," Andrew added. "Is any villain really _that_ overconfident?"

"Also, he didn't have a cape," said Kara Philips, Richard's daughter.

That was all Richard could hear before he burst out laughing. "The other question is, would I have had the courage to do that even if I'd had the chance, after watching that wizard take down everyone who tried to stop him? But the story I told wasn't about what really happened: It's about what I might have written, had I wanted to make myself the big hero. If this had been a fictional universe, instead of the real world, that would have been a perfect example of a Mary Sue."

"A Mary Who?" Bottie asked.

"A Mary Sue," Richard explained, "is what can happen when an author inserts himself as a hero into his own story."

Across the crowded classroom, he saw puzzled expressions. A barely visible hand emerged from a few rows back, making Richard smile. "Suzy? Is that you?"

The others giggled. "I was late," explained Suzy, the shortest slayer in the class.

Looking embarrassed, someone who appeared to be Buffy Summers bounced out of her seat in the front row. "I'm sorry! We were talking when everyone came in, and I forgot to move." She quickly traded places with Suzy, while Richard wondered again what Buffybot thought she could get out of this class. Bottie was programmed with so much knowledge that she actually taught a few classes herself.

It still amazed Richard that his fiction writing class filled up so quickly when he offered it as an elective. Maybe it was simply because they didn't have many electives, and this was a nice break from biology, math, or geography. Still, in addition to two dozen of the younger slayers, some of the building's occupants who weren't required to take high school courses had also signed up.

But now he focused on Suzy, who was dressed in her usual costume of what she called "bondage pants" -- Richard desperately hoped she never explained the nomenclature -- and a baggy black sweatshirt. She'd pinned to the shirt a hand printed sign that said _Slayer for Hire_. "Now that we're settled again, what was the question?"

"I thought you said good authors always put themselves into their work," said Suzy, as thirty or so slayers and watchers nodded. Suzy was 17, and still at the junior level in school because of the normal chaos that had ensued when she became a slayer a year earlier. By the time Giles tracked her down, she'd beaten up two school bullies, foiled a convenience story robbery, gotten expelled from school, and generally turned her home life upside down to such an extent that her parents had actually been relieved when she rode away with Giles and Faith in the "school" van.

Beside her, Teagan tilted her head to one side. "But ... not _really_." Teagan was Suzy's roommate. They'd lived only miles apart pre-slayer, and had even encountered each other a few times before each received the calling and managed to turn their home lives into wreckage. Despite the difference in their heights, some of the other slayers teased them about being twins.

"You mean, not literally," Suzy corrected.

Teagan nodded. "Author intrusion."

"You're right, that's the term --"

"I win!" Teagan stuck her tongue out at her friend. On this particular day, the dark haired girl had gone heavy on the eyeliner. That was supposed to mean something, Richard recalled from overhearing previous discussions, but he couldn't remember what.

"That's part of it," Richard agreed. "In a Mary Sue the author joins in the tale literally, but the story's also set in the context of a known universe created by someone else -- usually for a television show or movie, sometimes a book or comic book."

"Graphic novel," Andrew said from his normal place at one end of the front row.

Richard felt the entire room tense up. Andrew had a tendency to go off on tangents, and it annoyed most of the others to no end. Of those taking the writing course, Bottie was the only one who seemed to enjoy sparring with the young watcher.

"Whether called graphic novel or comic book, the result is the same --"

"But they're two different --" Andrew began, but Richard had been prepared for that.

"Two different things, I know, but that discussion's not germane to my point." He leaned forward. "Germane is my word for the day."

The class laughed at Richard's standard joke, completely cutting Andrew off. As planned.

"Why Mary Sue?" Dana suddenly asked, with a rather offended tone. "Why not a male name?"

Richard and Andrew were the only males there, but since Richard had expected that objection, he'd come forearmed to prevent a battle of the sexes. "The term originated with Star Trek fanfiction, and the vast majority of that show's fanfiction writers at the time were female. The plot would focus on a female, generally a junior crew member who would show up and heroically save the day -- often in an unrealistic way -- while the show's stars stood by helplessly. Not only were Kirk, Spock and company portrayed as hopelessly inept compared to this brilliant lieutenant, but one or both of them -- or the entire male cast, and sometimes the females, too -- invariably fell in love with the new character."

Richard paused for effect. "The generic name given this new character was Mary Sue. And who was Mary Sue?"

"The writer," most of the class members said in unison.

"Exactly. Now the fanfiction craze has exploded, so when males go overboard with the author intrusion, the story's called a Mary Stu." Richard propped himself on his desk and crossed his arms. "It's okay to put yourself into a story, but fanfiction is legally questionable to begin with. You're using someone else's characters and universe, after all. It sinks from legally questionable to morally unsound if you then go completely against both character and storyline, by having an original character come in and do things the established characters are quite capable of doing for themselves."

Now Richard allowed himself to smile. Back in his original teaching days, before his daughter became a slayer and he moved with her to the Chicago headquarters of the new Watcher's Council, he'd taught creative writing. He loved this part, although when he'd done it before it had involved only author intrusion, not fanfiction. "Now, your next assignment will be a two parter. For the second part, you'll use your favorite show, movie, book, or --" He nodded toward Andrew "-- graphic novel, to write a story showing how you can use someone else's universe, while staying true to both its design and its characters." That would teach them about characterization and internal consistency.

"But first, I want you to purposefully do it wrong. I want you to take that universe, and write yourself a Mary Sue. Go crazy; save the universe, have everyone love you, be all powerful. Use what I've taught you about creative writing so far -- the writing itself should be right -- but show me you understand what not to do with characters."

As he had expected, the students started eagerly chatting among themselves. The idea of writing within the confines of their favorite mode of entertainment (he expected to see something out of Star Wars from Andrew) would give his students a little jump start, something that might make them more interested in both writing and reading.

Strictly speaking, it was illegal. Of course, strictly speaking, so was this school.

Also as he had expected, the moment the bell rang (well, okay, a buzzer) a line formed in front of his desk. Any fictional universe? asked Bottie, as she bounced eagerly on her heels. Yes, any. Could more than one fictional universe be combined? Yes, indeed. Could more than one real life person be in the story? Absolutely. What about bringing fictional characters into the real world? Go for it.

The room was mostly empty when Dana shuffled up to his desk, her head down, face mostly hidden by wild tangles of dark hair. Kara and Bottie had been working on Dana's personal hygiene, but she still had her off days. "What if all these people come to life, together?"

From her position behind Dana, Suzy gave the other slayer a concerned look.

"That's been done before," Richard said, choosing his words carefully. "Characters from a half dozen or more different universe, together in one story. But it's very hard to pull off -- you might want to start with just one." For the life of him, Richard couldn't remember Dana ever discussing any form of entertainment. But whatever she chose, the fact remained that Dana was barely writing at a fifth grade level, and would have trouble pulling off one crossover, let alone multiples. He was fairly sure she'd never have taken the class if her roommate, Kara, hadn't signed up first.

Narrowing her eyes, Dana gave him a look that could only be described as haunted. "It would be bad."

"Well, yes ... it could be."

Nodding once, Dana turned and headed out the door with a purposeful stride.

Suzy watched her go, then turned back to Richard with a raised eyebrow. "Is she okay?"

"She'll be fine. Kara keeps an eye on her." He didn't add that the idea of his daughter being Dana's roommate sometimes terrified him.

"Well, she just seems ... off. More off. Than usual." Shaking her head, Suzy handed over a bound manuscript. "Here it is."

"Finished already? You must have crossed yourself over with The Flash."

Suzy laughed. "It's the extra credit assignment, to make up for missing last week's classes."

"It wasn't necessary, you know." Slayers got unlimited time off for doing their job, and Suzy had been busy helping to tackle that Missouri chaos demon -- or dark mage, no one was entirely certain which -- who'd tried to unleash the New Madrid fault. "I gave you credit for those classes even before I found out you got zapped with black magic."

"It wasn't so bad. It was like having your foot fall asleep all over. Anyway, if I'm going to get a scholarship I've got to keep the grades up."

Suzy turned to leave, and only when the line before his desk was finally gone did Richard notice someone still sat at a desk, smiling at him.

"I thought it hurt," the ghost of Tara McClay told him from the back row, where she had a notebook, a binder, and a copy of _How to Write a Damn Good Short Story_ spread out before her. "It was like being poked all over with hot needles."

"The black magic, or the writing assignment?"

Tara gave him that gentle smile that made everyone fall in love with her -- despite the fact that she'd died over two years before.

"Have you been here the whole time?" he asked her, smiling back. "Or did you just fade in?"

"I walked right in along with the chattering rush." She started gathering her materials together, unconsciously mimicking what Richard had begun to do. "Now I feel bad that I didn't do any extra credit work."

He started to remind her she didn't need the grade, then caught himself. "Come to think of it, you could transfer your UC Sunnydale credits to another college. Giles told me he's never encountered a spirit able to interact with the real world as much as you."

She gave him a strange, startled look, as if she'd been caught with her hand in the cookie jar, then shrugged. "I'm happy here, being a watcher."

"On a related note, Andrew told me they had to carry you off in a stretcher after that chaos worshipper blasted your group. Was he exaggerating again?"

"Not exactly." Standing, Tara ambled toward the front of the room, her class materials clasped against her with both hands. "It just caught me unawares, that's all." Watching her hair tumble over her shoulder and her peasant skirt swish around her legs, Richard found himself entranced. How could a spirit seem so solid and real, all the time?

"I just wanted to say how much I like your latest assignment," Tara said. For just a moment Richard was troubled with the impression that she'd deliberately changed the subject, but he couldn't imagine why. "Everyone likes your class. But this idea -- writing about their favorite movie or TV show -- really excited them."

"Kara should get part of the credit," he told her, trying to hide a little burst of pleased egotism. "I'd never heard of fanfiction, until Kara sent me a link to some stories based on the Oz books." Off her puzzled look, he gave an embarrassed shrug. "My parents bought me the original fourteen Oz stories when I was a kid, and then I read them to Kara. She knew I'd appreciate knowing there were others out there who cared that much about the world Baum created -- I mean, who cared about his books, rather than the Judy Garland movie."

"Ah." Eyes twinkling, she shook a finger at him. "Are they still under copyright?"

Laughing, he shook his head. "Don't worry. Most creators turn a blind eye to fanfiction, since it serves to increase interest in their own work. As long as nobody in the class tries to sell their stories to a publisher, I can't imagine anything going wrong."


	2. Famous Last Words

**Crossover, kind of, with:** Star Wars, the Oz books by L. Frank Baum, and My Chemical Romance. All 14 chapters are complete except for a final go-through.

**Characters**: Tara, Dana, Buffybot, Andrew, Xander; appearances by Giles, Willow and Kennedy, and some surprises. Also an original watcher who is absolutely not, in any way, the author, and three original slayers who have absolutely no connection to anyone I know. Honest. Would I lie?

**Thanks for much to Ainon for her typically great betaing skills! **

All characters who belong to Joss and co, belong to Joss and co.

**-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------**

**Chapter Two**

In which Xander and our hero learn watchers don't get quiet evenings at home

**Famous Last Words**

Richard finished the last line of Teagan's story and sat back in his office chair, staring into the distance for a long moment before murmuring, "Who the heck is My Chemical Romance?"

Even without setting a completion date for the new writing project, Richard had started hearing back from class members within days. Specifically, the five slayers and two watchers who'd been hit by the black magic blast made quick progress, because they'd been taken out of mission rotation until Willow could double check to make sure there were no long term effects.

Unfortunately, Willow was with Giles, leading a team trying to clear a particularly nasty poltergeist from an isolated English mansion. The Watcher's Council had discussed having Tara look into the Missouri incident, but since Tara was one of the victims, they had to consider the possibility that she'd been compromised. As a result, the idled members of her team had turned in their first drafts within a week.

Teagan's was the first fanfiction story turned in, and he was still debating whether, strictly speaking, it met the criteria. Yes, Teagan was in the story, and yes, she'd saved the day by taking over as road manager for a rock group, then getting them a new record deal and a multimillion dollar contract; and yes, the group's leader, a somewhat strange character named Gerard, had fallen in love with her.

However, Teagan's notes indicated this was a real band. Therefore, she hadn't inserted herself into a fictional world: She'd merely elevated herself in the real world.

Richard turned to his laptop, which was almost invisible among the piles of papers and books on his cherry wood desk. His office was tiny: there was room only for the desk, two chairs, a filing cabinet, and an overflowing bookcase. The single window looked not outside, but over the classroom. Still, the only reason he got an office at all was because he'd agreed to take responsibility for the school -- Giles was the only other watcher with a private office in the building. Thank goodness Xander's work crew had finished converting the floor above, because if they were still occupying only the fourteenth floor of the Chicago high rise he'd probably be sharing his living quarters with Xander ... or worse yet, Andrew.

An internet search quickly turned up hundreds of links to My Chemical Romance. So, they were, indeed, a group. He brought up iTunes and, wincing at the use of a company credit card, downloaded several songs. If Kara found out, after he'd refused to let her spend her allowance on more music CD's ...

Although unsure why he was bothering, Richard listened to the first song, head bowed in concentration. It was punk music, he guessed; he wasn't much up on the genres these days. Personally, he preferred what he thought of as classic rock -- Boston, Bachman Turner Overdrive, the Beatles ...

While he listened, he took the time to finally check out Suzy's extra credit story, which he'd forgotten in the rush of the previous week's testing. Also set in real life, it involved a watcher and slayer falling in love.

Gee, that wasn't a touchy subject.

Shifting in his seat, Richard read the story while My Chemical Romance played in the background. The watcher, whose age wasn't revealed but who acted and apparently looked middle aged, was a wise and talented Englishman named James Raleigh. But as the story progressed he fell madly for the teenaged slayer, and followed her around rather like an overeager puppy dog as they slayed various bad guys and lived a life James Bond would envy.

Richard chuckled as the pair ended up in yet another luxury hotel room, cuddling together but chivalrously avoiding intimate contact. The last time he'd gone out on assignment -- had it been over three months ago? -- he'd flown coach and stayed in a Motel 6.

"Hey, Rich?" He looked up to see Xander standing at the door to Richard's office, looking uncomfortable. Xander, for all he'd faced in his young life, still hated anything remotely connected to the idea of schools. "Um, we've got a situation."

The older slayer sat up straight. "Something you couldn't handle?" Richard couldn't imagine anything Xander couldn't handle, except maybe Dana.

"Well, it involves your students, kind of, and since you're the headmaster, or principle, or whatever ..."

"I'm not really the principle." Richard frowned, trying to figure out why being called that bothered him so much. "Or, to put it another way, school's out."

"Yeah, but ..." Xander shrugged. "I'm not all that much on the disciplinarian thing. I figured, with you being an old guy --"

Richard's frown deepened.

"-- I mean, you know, older guy, cause you're not old, really, just mature. In a good way, that's not young."

Richard folded his arms.

"Hey, you're listening to the same music they are! How could you be old? Shutting up, now."

Finally Richard decided to let him off the hook. "You're a punk, Xander. Now -- wait a minute. Who's listening to the same music?"

"In the gym. It's loud, too loud; people are complaining."

Glancing up at his Maltese cross clock, a souvenir of his volunteer firefighting days, Richard realized it was almost 10 p.m. "Seriously, everybody likes you, Xander. If you'd ask, they'd turn it down."

"Oh, no." Xander waved his arms in front of him. "It's not the noise that's the problem. See, there's a band in the gym."

Richard blinked.

"A live band. Playing MCR songs."

Richard blinked again.

"I rousted Andrew out of bed to check the security monitors, and no one has come in since Clem got back from his supply run almost four hours ago."

"Huh." Richard felt a little chill, and was out of his seat before he'd realized it. There were so many possible dangers in this scenario: magic, demons, groupies, hearing damage ... "Giles is still in England?" He led the way through the door, and they strode past the rows of wooden desks in the classroom.

"Yeah, and Willow's with him. Buffy and Dawn are in Japan, Faith and Robin are in Australia, and Rona's team just got to Cleveland to relieve Vi and Jason. You're in charge, buddy."

Although he'd just shoved open the outer classroom door, Richard stopped short, turning toward Xander. He barely felt the door come back to hit his shoulder. "What?"

"Um, it's a term of endearment. You know, buddy -- bud. I could call you something else. Mr. Philips?"

But Richard shook his head. "Not that. I'm not in charge, Xander, you are."

"No I'm not."

"The rules place the senior watcher who's present in charge of the headquarters. That's you."

"But you're the principle." Xander looked honestly confused.

"I'm not --" Richard stopped short, suddenly realizing why being called principle bothered him so much. He'd given up teaching after ten years, when his books started selling enough to make the house payments. But he didn't quit teaching because of the book sales -- he quit because he'd gotten tired of the public school system, where nothing could be done about the lack of respect, where no one seemed to care, where acts of violence resulted in nothing but helpless hand wringing.

Okay, so now he had disciplined, usually respectful students who weren't just wandering pointlessly through life. But he didn't sign on to run a school, damn it -- he signed on to be a watcher. Why wasn't Robin Wood doing this? After all, Robin had been an actual principle. Could the fact that Robin defied the odds by continuing to date Faith be getting him better duties?

Richard firmly told himself such thoughts were sour grapes. Still, no wonder he'd been feeling a growing sense of discontentment.

"Um, Rich?"

He shook his head, getting back to the matter at hand. "We go in together, and play to our strengths. You're closer to their age, and you're the head watcher in-house. If they don't respond to your personality, I'll break out the discipline."

"Good cop/bad cop?"

"Way to simplify, Xander."

Tara stood at the door to the gym, wincing in time to the music. Although she couldn't have heard them approaching, she turned to greet them. "I prefer my music more ... mellow."

Cocking his head, Xander considered this. "What do lesbian witch ghosts listen to?"

Hands on hips, Tara glared at him.

"Shutting up now, again."

They shoved through the door, reeling back a bit as the music hit full force -- Richard had forgotten that the gym was supposed to be soundproofed. On one end of the large room, about two dozen slayers sat on the floor, entranced, their bodies swaying in time to the music. On the other end, five young men had a rock band set up, complete with huge speakers, and were playing their hearts out.

All wore a type of black outfit that looked very much like a stylized band uniform. Generally, they looked pretty normal, for a band. The lead singer's hair was apparently bleached, reminding Richard uncomfortable of that vampire the Scoobies spoke of with varying degrees of venom, Spike.

They weren't just playing MCR songs, Richard realized, when he recognized them from his internet search. They _were_ MCR. "They're actually pretty good," he admitted.

"What?" Xander yelled.

"I said, we have to shut them down!"

Stepping to the middle of the room, Xander waved his hands. When he had the attention of the lead vocalist, he slashed a hand across his throat.

The vocalist -- Gerard -- stopped singing, causing the others to stutter to a confused stop. In the ensuing silence, a wave of disappointed "Ahhhhh's" drifted from the slayers.

"Are you the guy in charge?" Gerard asked Xander.

Glancing back at Richard, Xander shrugged. "Um, yeah, and I'm a little curious about how you guys got here."

"Oh." Gerard looked back at the other band members, who also shrugged. "We were going to ask _you_ that."


	3. Welcome to the Black Parade

**Crossover, kind of, with:** Star Wars, the Oz books by L. Frank Baum, and My Chemical Romance. All 14 chapters are complete except for a final go-through.

**Characters**: Tara, Dana, Buffybot, Andrew, Xander; appearances by Giles, Willow and Kennedy, and some surprises. Also an original watcher who is absolutely not, in any way, the author, and three original slayers who have absolutely no connection to anyone I know. Honest. Would I lie?

**Thanks so much to Ainon for her typically great betaing skills! **

All characters who belong to Joss and co, belong to Joss and co.

**-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------**

**Chapter 3:**

_(In Which it turns out slayers are still girls, after all)_

**Welcome to the Black Parade**

"Let me get this straight."

Static crackled over the speaker phone, but the incredulity could still be heard in Giles' voice. "A rock band suddenly appeared in the gym. And when they realized they were standing there with their instruments in their hand -- they just started playing?"

"It seemed like a good idea at the time," Ray, the lead guitarist, explained.

Gerard nodded. "It just felt like the thing to do, especially with all those teenage girls standing there with swords and axes. I figured, whatever didn't piss them off worked for me."

The five band members sat at the table in the large conference room, along with Richard, Xander, Tara, and Andrew. "I get that feeling a lot," Xander assured the rocker.

"Where were you before you arrived here?" Tara asked.

Reluctantly, Gerard said, "I was driving by Christina Ricci's house to see if she'd left any of her curtains open."

"I was in the shower," Mikey, the bass player, offered.

"Oh." Tara reddened. "I mean, um, geographically."

"Sorry -- New Jersey." Bob the drummer twirled a drumstick around his fingers, making Richard fight the urge to duck. "But I'm from here in Chicago, so it's cool." How that made their instantaneous trip halfway across the country cool mystified Richard.

"We're the real thing, Mr. Giles," Gerard said reassuringly. "I just got off the phone with our people in New Jersey -- they were pretty worried about us disappearing."

"We go on tour next week," Frank, the guitarist, added. "So we have to get back, along with our equipment."

"We can arrange that," Giles said. "But as it's late where you are, we'll put you up for the night, then we'll load your equipment into one of our vans in the morning. We have to make a trip to our office in New York, anyway."

Gerard looked confused. "A Chicago girl's school has an office in New York?"

Xander cleared his throat. "A sister school. We're sending them some art stuff for a display." Appearing satisfied, Gerard nodded.

Once Giles disconnected, Richard got up and opened the door to the hallway, where a gaggle of slayers was hovering just outside. He'd asked for a guard to standby, just in case, but the three slayers he assigned had turned into every female on the fourteenth and fifteenth floors. "Could someone escort the gentlemen to the guest quarters?"

Teagan's hand shot up first, so he pointed to her, then leaned in close to whisper, "I want two slayers at the door all night."

"Got it." Her gaze slid over the five rockers and, with a deep breath, she motioned them forward.

"Maybe one of us should be there, too," Xander suggested as Richard retook his seat.

"Why?"

"Well ... rock stars. Teenage girls. Maybe we need to guard those guys from their guards."

Andrew nodded emphatically.

But after thinking about it for a moment, Richard shook his head. "These are mature and disciplined girls, I think they can control themselves. Besides, if we put a watcher there now, after showing we trust them to do the job, it might affect their confidence."

"So the next question," Xander said, "is how did a rock band get into the gym?"

"Magic," Tara told him. "I felt it as soon as we entered the gym, but I didn't want to say anything in front of My Chemical Romancers."

"Romance," Andrew corrected automatically.

Tara nodded. "There's something else you should know: They're not real."

The three men sat up straight, in varying degrees of panic.

"I don't think they're dangerous," she added hastily. "They seem to really think they're this rock band, and I have no doubt Gerald thought he really did call back to check in."

"Gerard," Andrew murmured.

"But they have no living aura; they're a magical construct. I suspect they're alive only in the same respect that the original Buffybot was, and maybe less."

Richard raised an eyebrow at that. The original Buffybot? Was? "Can you try to trace where the magic came from?"

"I can try," Tara told him, but she looked doubtful. "I wish Willow was here." She looked so wistful that Richard immediately knew he had to change the subject.

"Okay, let's stick to the original plan, then. If we can't figure out what's going on by first thing in the morning, we can at least get them out of watcher's headquarters. Hopefully nothing else will go wrong before then."

Richard's last comment horrified Andrew. "You jinxed us!"

-#-

Teagan and Suzy had the first watch in the hallway outside the guest rooms -- which were actually recently finished watcher's quarters on the fifteen floor. If someone had expected them to stand at attention, Suzy reflected, they'd be sadly disappointed: She sat cross legged on the floor, near the end of the hallway, where she could jump up and be ready for action before anyone who exited the rooms could reach her.

Teagan paced up and down the length of the hallway, her multicolored sneakers (Suzy's work, with magic markers), making no noise except the occasional squeak as she changed direction. About every third trip she would pause beside Suzy to gasp, "Gerard Way is there. _Right there_! On the other side of that door!"

"Really? You hadn't mentioned that."

With a quick pirouette, Teagan marched down to the other end of the hall, staring hard at each door as she passed. At the far end she paused, clenched and unclenched her fists, then came striding back to Suzy. "He's fifteen feet from us!"

"Maybe ten," Suzy said to Teagan's knees.

"I just wrote a story about him," Teagan said in a near whisper. "This is amazing!" Then, as if feeling guilty that she hadn't made her rounds, she glanced down the hallway. "How long have we been here?"

"Half an hour." Suzy shot her feet out, trying to catch her roommate unaware, but Teagan gracefully avoided the kick. "Pay attention, their biggest fan might try to rush by us any minute -- oh, wait, that would be you."

Teagan shot her a dirty look, but didn't deny it. Instead, she walked down to the end of the hall, checking out each door, swinging her arms like a soldier on parade.

Closing her eyes, Suzy leaned back against the wall. Why couldn't it have been The Cure? Then they could both have been fangirls without actually going into spasms over their newest adventure.

She wondered if this could have anything to do with Teagan's story. It seemed doubtful -- it was just a story, after all. Besides, if Teagan's story came true Suzy's would too, and that could lead to all sorts of embarrassing revelations. She was thinking about that, turning the possibilities over in her mind, when she heard voices.

Snapping her eyes open, Suzy vaulted to her feet. Teagan had not returned from her last patrol. Instead, she stood by a door, holding an intense conversation with the object of her obsession. Uh Oh. Gerard's hands were on Teagan's shoulders, and their heads were close together as he whispered in her ear. Then he drew back, and they gazed into each other's eyes.

Oh, crap. Suzy rushed toward them, but when Teagan turned there wasn't a hint of guilt in her eyes.

"Suzy! Gerard wants to get to know me better."

"He huh?"

The rocker nodded, without taking his gaze from the taller of the two slayers. "That's right. Ever since I saw her I've been smitten. Please, Teagan, come into my room with me. There's a fridge, there; we can cuddle and drink Diet Coke, and watch my videos. I'll teach you to play guitar, and give you a back rub."

"Oh, _yes_ ..."

As Teagan turned away Suzy grabbed her friend's arm, but the other slayer pushed her away. "He's mine, Suz -- you can have Bob."

"I don't want Bob! Well, I do, but -- Teag, this is wrong! You're supposed to be guarding them, not sleeping with them!"

Looking offended, Gerard turned to Suzy for the first time. "Hey! I'm going to be a perfect gentleman. I would never take advantage of Teagan. Hugging, kissing -- first base."

"Maybe second," Teagan whispered in his ear.

"Ew! Teagan, we don't know what's going on." They ignored her. Gerard opened the door, his hand on the small of Teagan's back to guide her inside. "At least say the rest of the band's not in there!"

"Heck, no." Gerard winked at her. "They can find their own slayers."

The last thing Suzy saw as the door closed was Teagan's ecstatic, expectant face.

"Oh boy." Now what? Turning, Suzy started to pound on Mikey's door, thinking Gerard's brother could help. No -- if Gerard was bad, the other band members had to be, also. She needed help, but the security cameras hadn't been installed in this area yet, and there was no one posted in central control, anyway. She started one way, then spun around, then froze. Think. She needed Giles. _No, stupid, Giles isn't here. Think_!

Richard, then, or Xander, or Tara, or -- no, not Andrew. With one last look to make sure none of the other doors were opening, Suzy dashed down the hallway.

She headed for the stairs, intent on reaching the fourteenth floor where the in-house watchers lived, but before she could get to the stairway door the elevator beside it opened. Startled, she skidded to a halt, then almost sobbed with relief when she saw who it was. "Giles!"

He stepped out of the elevator and gave her a quizzical look. "Really, Suzy. I know we look alike, but I should think by now you could tell us apart."

"What?"

"You really can't tell who I am? Look closer."

She did, and realized he looked years younger than Giles. The glasses were gone, his hair was a bit longer and more mussed. Instead of tweed, he wore a carefully tailored navy blue suit.

It couldn't be.

"Ah, there's the recognition I expected." He threw her a boyish grin. "It's me, James Raleigh. Your watcher."


	4. Ghost of a Chance

**Crossover, kind of, with:** Star Wars, the Oz books by L. Frank Baum, and My Chemical Romance. All 14 chapters are complete except for a final go-through.

**Characters**: Tara, Dana, Buffybot, Andrew, Xander; appearances by Giles, Willow and Kennedy, and some surprises. Also an original watcher who is absolutely not, in any way, the author, and three original slayers who have absolutely no connection to anyone I know. Honest. Would I lie?

**Thanks so much to Ainon for her typically great betaing skills! **

All characters who belong to Joss and co, belong to Joss and co.

**-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------**

**Chapter 4:**

(In Which our hero learns Dracula lives, the Force is with him, and he's not in Kansas anymore.)

**A Ghost of a Chance**

Midnight.

Giving up on sleep, Richard climbed out of bed and turned on the main light in his little apartment. For a moment he felt claustrophobic, even though the closet he'd stayed in until the renovations were finished had been much smaller. Now he had a kitchenette, a bed alcove with a privacy curtain, a living area big enough for two chairs and a table, and his very own bathroom.

Once, a lifetime ago in Indiana, he'd owned a house with three bedrooms, two baths, a study and a big back yard, where he'd taught Kara to play catch and ride a bike. Now -- well, it was still there and still his; he supposed it would make a nice vacation home, if he ever got around to taking a vacation.

_Life will throw curve balls_. With an ironic smile, Richard tossed his briefcase on the table and opened it, revealing the work he'd brought from his office fifty feet away. If he wasn't going to sleep, he might as well check out the rest of the stories his creative writing class had produced.

And sleep was out of the question, with a mystical rock band inside watcher's headquarters. He felt like a fool for not putting them up in a hotel, where they wouldn't be too close to the slayers if something went wrong. Suzy and Teagan had proven themselves able warriors, but he didn't know how well they might handle more subtle attacks -- and besides, they'd be relieved later that night by less experienced girls.

Sighing, he opened a leather bound manuscript entitled "_Star Wars: Revenge of Andrew"_.

Good to know some things were predictable.

Although full of purple prose, Andrew's tale was surprisingly readable. He'd kept the story moving quickly, just as the movies did -- hardly surprising, considering how many times the younger watcher had viewed them. The tale had Andrew as a Jedi -- of course -- rescuing Padme from a time traveling Darth Vader.

Okay, wait. Hadn't Darth Vader been in love with Padme? Reading on, Richard discovered an interesting twist in the story when it was revealed Vader had traveled in time to prevent Padme's death, but Andrew the Jedi assumed the worst about the black clad Sith Lord. In the end Vader and Andrew forged an uneasy alliance and saved Padme, whereupon their partnership ended and they dueled to the death. Vader's death, of course, leaving a living Padme with her savior, Andrew.

Shaking his head, Richard took a few notes in preparation for a second reading, later. The writing needed to be toned down -- a lot -- and if it had been anyone but Andrew, he'd have assumed the purple prose was part of the fun. Padme as written was a bit too silly and americanized, even saying "wowzers" when she first saw Vader. But otherwise, it was a solid and entertaining tale.

So was the next one, although Richard knew he'd have to tread carefully, since it was by his own daughter. Worse, she'd written about one of his favorite fictional universes, the Land of Oz. Her story had Kara being hit by a bolt of black magic -- no problem figuring out where she got that from -- which blasted her to Oz, where she got involved in a brewing war between that magical land and the mischief making Nome King.

He chuckled, both at how he could tease Kara for sucking up to the teacher and at remembering his first crush: on Dorothy Gale, back when he was barely old enough to read. Kara's story was more straightforward, without the plot twists of Andrew's, but she did a good job of capturing Baum's whimsical writing style and outlandish characters.

He was so absorbed with the story that he almost didn't hear the knocking. An instant later his senses went on full alert and he vaulted for the door, at the last moment remembering to look through the peephole. Tara stood there, in the same outfit she'd worn that day, and she gave a start when he yanked the door open. "What's wrong?"

"Oh, nothing! I just couldn't sleep --"

"You sleep?" he blurted out, before he could stop himself.

"Bottie says I even snore."

So the ghost needed sleep -- but sometimes couldn't sleep. Well, he knew that feeling. Throwing the door open, he gestured her inside. "I could use the company; in fact, I could use your help reading all these stories."

Stepping in, Tara glanced around, then looked Richard up and down. "So, I didn't wake you?"

He followed her gaze, and realized he was still wearing the red plaid pajamas Kara gave him for Christmas. "Um, no." _Richard, you are so damn suave_. "I tried to, but ..." He waved her to a chair, then retreated into the bedroom alcove to don black sweats and running shoes. "Check out Bottie's story, why don't you? It's next on the stack."

He heard nothing but the rustle of paper, and when he stepped out again she was gazing down at the pages with a whimsical smile. "Interesting?" he inquired.

"Have you ever seen the daytime drama '_Passions_'?" He shook his head. "How about the movie _'I, Robot_'?"

"The book was better."

"Well, in this story the robots from the movie try to take over the town from the soap opera. The townspeople call on Buffy the Slayer to protect them, and accidentally get Buffybot instead."

He stared at her, trying to digest that. "You read that far in the time it took me to change?"

"Her writing style is very spare; she put all that in the first six pages."

"Maybe," he mused as he sat at the table beside her, "If we average Andrew and Bottie, we'd get the perfect story."

Tara went back to reading. Richard picked up Dana's story, which began with her and Buffybot sneaking out of watcher's headquarters in the dead of night. But it was hand written -- badly hand written -- and after only a page his eyes began to ache. It didn't help that the scent of lilac, which after a moment he realized came from Tara, kept distracting him.

He decided to put Dana off and go to another story, then hesitated when he saw the next manuscript -- Tara's. But he picked it up, reasoning everyone must be treated fairly, and was soon immersed in events that had actually happened in the real world. At first he thought it didn't meet his requirements, until he realized Tara was writing about someone who both really existed _and_ was a fictional character: Vlad Dracula.

He knew the story from one of his many marathon sessions reading watcher's journals -- Rupert Giles' journal, in this case. Dracula, attracted to Buffy Summers' growing, almost legendary reputation, came to Sunnydale, met Buffy, and ended up on the wrong end of a stake. That was the short version, of course.

He'd seen no mention of Tara in Giles' account of the incident, but in this over the top version Tara was the central character: Finding Dracula's lair, battling his henchmen, and eventually using magic to make Dracula's mansion vanish, exposing all the characters to the morning sun and vanquishing the famous vampire forever. Tara's matter-of-fact, tongue in cheek writing style had Richard chuckling out loud by the end of the tale.

That's when he looked up and saw Tara staring at the last page of Bottie's story, her face red. She'd noticed what he was reading, then, and ... the ghost was blushing. "You did great, Tara. Having Giles almost seduced by the three female vamps was a stroke of genius."

Now the young ghost looked up at him with a wide smile. "Oh -- Giles left that out of his official reports?"

"You mean --"

"Yep. I can't take credit for that part; Willow told me it happened just the way I wrote it." Reaching out, she brushed a strand of Richard's dark hair away from his forehead.

His breath caught, and he stared at her. Suddenly realizing what she'd done, Tara jerked back and busied herself with arranging the manuscripts, while he touched the spot where her hand had been a moment before. Her hand, a ghost hand.

A warm hand.


	5. Too Much Information

**Crossover, kind of, with:** Star Wars, the Oz books by L. Frank Baum, and My Chemical Romance. All 14 chapters are complete except for a final go-through.

**Characters**: Tara, Dana, Buffybot, Andrew, Xander; appearances by Giles, Willow and Kennedy, and some surprises. Also an original watcher who is absolutely not, in any way, the author, and three original slayers who have absolutely no connection to anyone I know. Honest. Would I lie?

**Thanks so much to Ainon for her typically great betaing skills! **

All characters who belong to Joss and co, belong to Joss and co.

**-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------**

**Chapter 5:**

(In which we learn some fantasies can be pretty icky in real life.)

**Too Much Information**

James Raleigh led an unprotesting Suzy down the same hallway she was supposed to be guarding, to a watchers quarters room that she knew to be bare and empty.

Her lack of protest was not from a willingness to go, but from sheer, dumbfounded awe. James was not real. In fact, she'd invented him just a few weeks before, for extra credit in Mr. Philips's class. Yet there he was, his strong hand in hers, looking exactly as she'd imagined.

"Sorry to have been away so long, luv," James said, stopping by the door.

"Um," was all Suzy could get out, as she tried desperately to remember just how far James and the slayer played by her had gone during the course of the story. Not far, since she'd known Mr. Philips would be reading it. Hopefully this was going as the story went, not as her imagination had. Or not hopefully. Or something.

"I've missed you terribly." He took her into his arms and kissed her, hard.

_Oh boy._

Releasing her, James turned and, to her surprise, produced a key that he smoothly turned in the lock. This was the moment of truth. When this fake Giles -- James Raleigh -- opened the door and discovered his quarters was unused -- had never even been furnished -- the game would be up. She spent an indecisive moment wanting to grab him away, drag him off and let him continue to be her very own watcher, never mind the reasons for him being here.

Then the door opened, and it was too late.

James glanced in, then stepped back, flashed a grin that made her knees weak, and waved her inside. Startled, Suzy looked through the door --

And gasped.

It was three times the size of the rooms they'd given to the band members -- in fact, it looked very much like the walls dividing this room from the two quarters next door had simply disappeared. At one end, a king size waterbed dominated a raised sleeping area. The other end was also raised, and contained a kitchen-dining area with oak cabinets and furniture. In the middle, a huge couch waited against one wall, and an entertainment center dominated by a plasma TV covered the other.

"This is ... nice."

With a hand to the small of her back, James ushered Suzy in. "You should know -- you were the interior decorator. Your multitalented brain is one of those many things I love about you."

"Huh," she replied. She took a halting step to the middle of the room, as recognition hit her. This was, indeed, the room she'd designed for James Raleigh, watcher -- his room in the Pacific Watcher's Post, on the big island of Hawaii. A place that didn't actually exist.

What could she say? She hated cold.

"Well. It's Saturday night, of course." James winked at her. "After midnight, as well. You know what that means." He turned and headed for the sleeping area, making her heart skip.

"But --" _Oh, BOY_. "I don't think we should."

"Nonsense, we do this every Saturday night." He pulled the curtain to hide him from sight, and she heard clothing rustle.

Every Saturday night? Only once a week? That didn't fit any of her fantasies.

"It's there on top of the DVD player, right where you left it. Really, Suzy, I know it was a gift from you, but I do like to keep my things nicely organized."

Slowly, she approached the entertainment center, her gaze skimming over a row of records. Beatles, Clash, Cure ... yep, all alphabetized. Then she caught sight of a colorful DVD, left just where he'd predicted.

_"Rocky Horror Picture Show."_

"That's my favorite movie!" Suzy gasped.

Behind the curtain, James chuckled. "As if I wouldn't know that?"

A horrifying thought struck Suzy, so horrible that she almost collapsed onto the floor. Had she written it? Was it in the story? She racked her brain, and realized she had, indeed, put a mention of it into the story. No details -- they would have freaked Mr. Philips out -- but apparently details had a way of filling themselves in, here.

She pinched herself, hard. Yep. Hurt. _Please, by all that's holy, don't let him come out --_

With a flourish, James ripped the curtains open. He wore a black leather jacket that looked absolutely smashing. Along with a black garter and thigh-high hose. Which didn't look nearly as smashing in real life as she'd imagined.

James stood there, tottering on his heels, and gave her a puzzled look. "Why, Suzy, whatever are you waiting for? The rice and the rest of the items are in the box marked 'midnight movie', just as always."

-#-

"There's something wrong," Richard declared.

Tara took a deep breath, and refused to look into his eyes. "I don't know what you mean."

"For starters, you just breathed."

"R-reflex action. Vampires do it too." Her hands fluttered over the little table, and she stuffed them onto her lap.

"True." He thought of the all too real band members, and suddenly found himself trying to remember if they'd come into contact with anything -- if anyone had touched them, or seen them touch anything. "You're The First."

Now, looking startled, she did look at him. "I'm not! I touched you."

"Oh. Right." So she had, and Richard suddenly remembered that, whether the My Chemical Romance members had touched anything or not, the First hadn't been known for being able to conjure band instruments out of thin air. "But that doesn't change my concern, Tara --if you are Tara."

"Of course I am!"

"Tara who died two years ago?"

She looked away again.

"I'm not an expert on spirits. But you breathe, you knock on doors, you sleep, you smell like lilacs -- and your touch. Your touch was warm."

She took another deep breath, and for a second he stared in fascination at her rising chest, until he realized how it must seem. He forced his gaze back up, into those wide, expressive, _living_ eyes. "Where's the real Tara's spirit? How are you related to those band members?"

Her brow furrowed. "I -- I don't think I am. I was like this before they got here."

"You got zapped by black magic," he murmured.

"Before that. A f-few months ago. A s-spell."

Richard stared at her, his mind running through both good and bad possibilities. "No one could have brought you back to life -- your body was destroyed during the battle by Lake Superior."

"I'm not -- alive. Exactly." Raising her hand, Tara stared at it as if examining evidence. "It's a shell. A l-living shell. Sometimes it pinches, sometimes it hurts -- sometimes it seems too big, or to s-small."

"Tara." Impulsively, Richard reached forward to grasp her hand. Warm, and damp. She was sweating. "It's okay, I believe you. You can see how I could have jumped to conclusion, considering what's happened tonight --"

Nodding, Tara squeezed his hand. "I guess it is time to tell someone."

"Who did this to you?"

"Kennedy."


	6. Black Magic Women

**Crossover, kind of, with:** Star Wars, the Oz books by L. Frank Baum, and My Chemical Romance. All 14 chapters are complete except for a final go-through.

**Characters**: Tara, Dana, Buffybot, Andrew, Xander; appearances by Giles, Willow and Kennedy, and some surprises. Also an original watcher who is absolutely not, in any way, the author, and three original slayers who have absolutely no connection to anyone I know. Honest. Would I lie?

**Thanks so much to Ainon for her typically great betaing skills! **

All characters who belong to Joss and co, belong to Joss and co.

**-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------**

**Chapter Six: **

_(In which special women do questionable things. Get your mind out of the gutter.)_

**Black Magic Women**

When someone tapped lightly on Andrew's door he yawned and climbed wearily to his feet. He hadn't slept yet -- who could sleep with a phantom band in the building? -- but had just started to doze on his armchair. Still, he maintained the presence of mind to check the peephole before opening the door -- he'd been the victim of practical jokes by new slayers, once or twice. Okay, five times.

Natalie Portman stood outside the door.

The actress looked impossibly young, dressed in the Padme costume from her first Star Wars movie, her hair long again and braided. She was glancing up and down the hallway, looking confused.

"Holy cow." Andrew jerked the door open. "Nat --"

One hand caught him by the throat and another by an arm. She propelled him inside, forcing him up against the opposite wall of his small apartment. "Where am I?"

He stared up at her, entranced despite the violent act. She smelled like vanilla. But, something at her thigh was pressing against his leg, which made him glance down with the fear that he was having one of those wonderful dreams that turned into a nightmare.

"Um, you're in Chicago," he said, trying to see what the round cylinder at her waist was.

"Isn't that in the Cordelian system? Why am I here?"

"Maybe you're on location?" She looked pissed, and he noticed she also looked much younger than -- what was she, twenty-five? Something was very wrong.

Shifting to one side -- despite the hand still at his throat -- he finally was able to glimpse downward, past her impossibly slim form, to an object sticking out from the edge of her tunic. "Oh my gosh! Is that a real lightsaber?"

Finally she released him, stepping back to take the metal gray cylinder from the belt at her waist. She stared at it for a moment, then gave him a glare. "Let's find out." She pressed a button on the handle.

Nothing happened.

"Not even sound effects?" Andrew said, trying not to sound disappointed.

The young actress pressed a few more buttons, then shook the lightsaber experimentally, before punching buttons again. "Maybe it only works if the F --"

A sizzling green blade of energy sliced out from the end of the device. Startled, Natalie Portman jerked back, causing the blade to sweep across Andrew's armchair.

The chair settled a bit, then fell over in two neatly divided pieces.

"Oops." She punched buttons again, until the blade retracted. "Sorry."

"How -- how --" A part of Andrew's brain -- the part he usually kept strictly tied down, except when he was gaming or letting his imagination roam just before sleep -- kicked in. "_Who_ --?"

"My name is Padme." She waved the lightsaber menacingly. "And I want some answers."

"Oh, _wow_."

Then her eyes widened, focusing on Andrew's pajamas. "Why are you wearing clothes with my picture on them?"

-#-

Teagan the slayer moaned, squirming a little as Gerard pinned her onto the couch. This was the most exquisite, wonderful feeling she'd ever had in her young life, and she wanted it never to stop.

Kneeling over her, Gerard continued to kneed his fingers into the small of her back, before continuing up to massage her shoulders again. "I'm shocked they don't give you slayers a full time masseuse."

She just moaned more.

"But don't worry about that; I'm here now. Would you like another Coke?"

-#-

It wasn't long before Suzy forgot her doubts and settled into the couch beside Giles -- um, James -- for a viewing of the greatest cult movie in history. James knew all the lines, knew what to throw and when, and knew just the right time to deviate from the plot and plant a little kiss at the base of her neck. By the time the characters had entered the castle she'd convinced herself that she deserved a nice Saturday night off, and that whatever else was going on could all be straightened out later.

-#-

Richard set a cup of tea in front of Tara, and watched raptly as she sipped. His mind jumbled, trying to sort out whether he should be happy, angry, scared or just awestruck. "I can't believe Kara never told me any of this."

"We all agreed on secrecy. We felt that this getting out would cause more problems than it solved."

"And no one else ever noticed." Kara should have told him. They'd shared everything, especially since her mother died -- there'd never been any secrets between them.

"I've been careful, but I should have realized the evidence would accumulate. Having Bottie as a roommate helped."

Tara had admitted to snoring. Maybe she wasn't being as careful as she thought, or maybe, deep down, she'd wanted someone else to know. He gave her a sidelong glance, wondering what the snoring comment, the touch, the midnight visit, all meant. "Any kind of resurrection usually has unforeseen side effects."

"I know; if I'd realized what Kennedy was planning, I wouldn't have let her go through with it. But after it was done I did some research, and discovered this spell was very carefully prepared by a wizard named Merlin; he wanted to use it eventually to resurrect a British king."

"I know the story," Richard murmured. "There's no record that he ever succeeded."

"No, but not because of the spell itself. It's powerful white magic; it required special sacrifices from those who are both close to the spirit and pure of heart."

He straightened in alarm.

"it's okay." She reached out to squeeze his arm. "It was a cheat, kind of. First, the spell required only a small amount of real blood -- the power came from the intentions of pure friends."

"Kara and Dana."

"Yes. They thought I was dying ... or the ghost equivalent. They were so prepared to sacrifice themselves for me that the intentions alone powered the spell. The second part of the cheat is that I'm not really alive again, like Buffy was; I'm a spirit entrapped in a living shell."

"I'm not sure a see the difference."

"I'm not sure there is one, other than that it feels a little --wrong -- sometimes."

Richard nodded. "That's why the bolt of black magic affected you. And it's also why you can't help track down the reason behind the appearance of a rock band in the gym."

She released his arm and gave an embarrassed shrug. "I'm sorry about that, but you're right -- I can still tap into the spirit dimension, but my abilities to travel and see are limited. Sometimes I feel like I was of more use before."

"Don't say that. For all intents you're alive again, and I for one am glad."

Tara flashed a smile at him. "But you didn't know me when I was alive before."

The smile seemed to go right into Richard, warming him from within, and he couldn't help but smile back. "I can imagine."

When they realized, a moment later, that they were still smiling at each other, Tara coughed and looked away. Richard, feeling dazed, grasped at the only part of the story that still eluded him. "But why Kennedy? Why in the world would she want to bring you back to life?"

"Oh, that." Tara gave a little wave. "Even though Kennedy has a reputation for being ... um ..."

"Self centered?"

"Well, she -- she really fell for W-Willow. So much that she was able to do the one thing that only those who really love do: Sacrifice. When the spell worked, she offered to step out of the way, let Willow and me be back together again."

"That's wonderful," Richard said, although doubt gnawed at him.

"I refused, because -- because they're good together. And because Willow's moved on. It wouldn't be right. That's when I convinced all four of them to keep it a secret."

Sitting back, Richard rubbed his chin and considered the story. Kennedy had fallen hard for Willow, no doubt about it, and more with each passing day. But ... "You helped them a few times, back when you were a spirit."

Looking puzzled, Tara nodded.

"Followed them on that first trip to Cleveland, and helped against a demon, as I recall. Then you showed up again during the battle at Lake Superior."

"Yes ... and I did them a little favor in Connecticut once, too."

"Really? Did Kennedy know about that?"

Tara nodded again, then picked up her cup to take a sip.

"Have you considered the possibility that Kennedy put you in a physical body so you couldn't spy on them anymore?"

That's when Richard found out Tara could not only breath and drink, but could spit tea across the room.


	7. May the Farce Be With You

**Crossover, kind of, with:** Star Wars, the Oz books by L. Frank Baum, and My Chemical Romance. All 14 chapters are complete except for a final go-through.

**Characters**: Tara, Dana, Buffybot, Andrew, Xander; appearances by Giles, Willow and Kennedy, and some surprises. Also an original watcher who is absolutely not, in any way, the author, and three original slayers who have absolutely no connection to anyone I know. Honest. Would I lie?

**Thanks so much to Ainon for her typically great betaing skills! **

All characters who belong to Joss and co, belong to Joss and co.

**-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------**

**Chapter Seven: **

(In which Dana triggers a new mystery and Andrew triggers an asthma attack.)

**May the Farce be With You**

Padme lay flat on Andrew's bed, her clothing loosened, breath coming in gasps, .a sheen of sweat covering her skin. In other words, she was hyperventilating.

This moment was going not at all the way Andrew had envisioned it.

She'd taken the poster, the graphic novel, and seeing herself on the cover of a DVD fairly well. The scrapbook of star photos made the young girl's eyes get wider and wider, and her breath catch. But it was the life-sized cardboard cutout that drove her over the edge.

"Here, breath into this." He handed her a paper bag, and she dutifully began gasping her breaths into it. Her hair, he noticed, was still perfect, and he had to tamp down an almost overwhelming urge to touch it and make sure it wasn't molded plastic. As her breaths began to slow and color returned into her face, she managed to speak into the bag while also giving him an accusatory look: "Why is ... my picture ... on the ... ceiling ... above your bed?"

Oops. He'd forgotten about the photo he'd printed, the one taken shortly after _V for Vendetta_ came out. "Um, I really admire you -- I mean, the woman who plays you -- as an actress."

Padme seemed to accept that, and after a moment she let the bag fall away from her face and lay spread eagle on the bed, staring at her mirror image. "I'd never cut my hair that short."

"It was for a part."

"I can't believe there's an actress who looks just like me." She struggled to a sitting position, and paled again for a moment. "This is not only another world, but another reality."

"I think it was magic. We had an -- incident -- here recently, and --"

"But I don't believe in magic." Climbing to her feet, the young girl began wandering around the tiny room, examining pictures and the small display of action figures Andrew had began, to replace the collection lost in Sunnydale. He silently thanked the gods that he kept the topless Natalie Portman beach images hidden away.

"You don't believe in magic, but you believe in the Force?"

"Well, of course. Doesn't everyone?" She stopped to take a closer look at a tiny figure. "Hey, it's Anakin!"

"Magic is kind of like our Force --"

"I still don't understand how he and I could fall in love. I mean, I do love Annie, you know, like a little brother. But he's just a kid."

"Look at the figure beside the one you picked up. That's Anakin, grown up."

"Wowzers."

_Wowzers? Nobody in the Star Wars universe would say wowzers_. "Padme, how old are you right now?"

"Fifteen. Who's this guy in the mask beside the Anakin dolls, dressed all in black?"

"Oh, just a villain." Fifteen. That would have been close to Natalie Portman's age when Andrew developed a massive, overwhelming crush on her. An idea played with the edge of his mind, and he had a feeling it was overwhelmingly important.

"I hadn't planned on ever leaving Naboo, you know," Padme mused, twirling the limited edition Darth Vader figurine between her fingers. "I spent all my time studying our laws, economics, sociology, environmental issues ... meeting people ... sometimes I forgot anything outside our world even existed."

"You were a great queen." She'd put the lightsaber on his night stand and now he examined it carefully, looking for any clues to who it belonged to.

"I didn't really want to be queen. But I got picked as a candidate, and on Naboo you never shirk from your duties." Setting Vader down, she picked up a doll of herself in the Queen Amidala costume. "I hated the makeup, but it really protects the skin."

No clues. He carefully put the weapon down, his mind warring between his duty as a watcher to get to the bottom of this and his desire as a fanboy to somehow talk her out of those clothes. But suppose it turned out she was somehow the personification of his action figures? Did she have visible joints and no, um, female parts under there?

"Maybe after my term's up I'll run for the Senate. I mean, what does a retired queen do? Besides, if I really am destined to date Annie, I'll want to go where he is." With a guilty glance over her shoulder, Padme lifted the Amidala doll's skirt, then breathed a sigh of relief.

Andrew also had to fight the urge to warn her about the future. If it turned out she was somehow real, it could change --what? Would his own past somehow change, into a world where George Lucas made movies that included an aging Padme, trying to protect her son and daughter against Vader? Or would Vader, the best movie villain ever, even exist? How wrong was it that Andrew wanted Darth Vader to exist, when in Padme's universe he'd killed untold numbers of people?

"Andrew?" She'd turned to look at him, concern etched on her face. "What's to become of me?"

"I'll protect you."

At that moment Andrew experienced overwhelming deja vus -- he'd heard those lines before, from him and from her. And come to think of it, he'd heard her say "wowzers" somewhere -- not Natalie Portman, but Padme. Where? Not in the movies -- it had to be from a fanfiction, some --

"Oh." The story! He'd written it while picturing her just as she was now, and he'd given her a lightsaber just to add elements to the fight scene. And, for fun and because he'd thought Richard would get a kick out of it, he'd had Padme say "Wowzers" when Vader first appeared. Somehow, he was responsible for her appearance.

Now it's was Andrew's turn to hyperventilate.

-#-

Kara Philip's alarm clock let out a gentle tone. When no one attended to it, the sound turned more rapid and insistent. When it still received no attention, it sent out a shrill, grating, high pitched beep. Then it went silent under the weight of a slayer's fist.

After a long moment, Kara lifted her hand and rolled toward the clock, blearily trying to read numbers that no longer existed. "Damn. Dad's gonna kill me if I requisition a new alarm clock."

Sliding out of bed, she left the light turned off and used her enhanced vision to glance at the watch she kept on her dresser, conveniently out of range of any sleepy limbs. She was due on rock band watch duty in half an hour. Usually Dana was the first to get up, eager to get started on a new day and shaking Kara out of her lethargy -- actually, Dana's morning perkiness was the only thing about her that really drove Kara nuts. But this time Kara's roommate had slept right through the clock, and that presented a difficulty, because waking Dana could be problematical. Anyone who touched Dana when she was deep in REM sleep was likely to be flying through the nearest wall before either of them knew what was happening.

Deciding to put off that challenge, Kara headed into the bathroom, splashed some water onto her face, and examined herself critically. A brush tamed her tangles of light brown hair -- a little -- and since she was going back to bed in a couple of hours anyway, she decided to forgo the makeup. That left only a change of clothes and her breath to tame, and she was set. Wouldn't her father be surprised at the idea of her being able to get going so quickly?

Grabbing a towel, she bunched it up and tossed it through the bathroom door, in the general direction of Dana's bed. "Rise and shine, roomie! We've got some My Chemical Romancing to do!"

Silence. Dana not waking up at the first sound of a voice was a dangerous thing. Cautiously, Kara edged through the doorway and flipped on the night.

Dana's bed was empty, except for a single piece of paper with a handwritten scrawl. Even from there Kara could make out the childlike scribble:

_"Gone to save the world. See you at breakfast."_

Kara gaped for one long moment, then grabbed at her clothes. The breath thing could wait.


	8. Not in Kansas Anymore

**Crossover, kind of, with:** Star Wars, the Oz books by L. Frank Baum, and My Chemical Romance. All 14 chapters are complete except for a final go-through.

**Characters**: Tara, Dana, Buffybot, Andrew, Xander; appearances by Giles, Willow and Kennedy, and some surprises. Also an original watcher who is absolutely not, in any way, the author, and three original slayers who have absolutely no connection to anyone I know. Honest. Would I lie?

**Thanks so much to Ainon for her typically great betaing skills! **

All characters who belong to Joss and co, belong to Joss and co.

**-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------**

**Chapter Eight: **

(In which somebody's going to have some explaining to do)

**Not in Kansas Anymore**

"Oh my goddess! Kennedy tricked me!" Grabbing a dish towel from Richard's kitchenette, Tara started sopping up the tea she'd spit onto the wall and floor.

"We don't --"

"I wasn't spying on them! I was helping!" Tara threw the towel into the sink, and in a flash was out the door.

"Tara --" But before Richard could follow her, Tara came back through the door, slamming it behind her.

"She's not here -- she's in England."

"Yes --"

"With Willow. They're probably _snogging_." Tara slammed her fist against the door, the first time he'd ever seen the remotest sign of violence from her.

"Well, I don't know what time it is in --"

"She seemed so sincere --" Then Tara stopped, frozen in the act of hitting the door again. "Richard?"

He stared at her, desperately afraid of where this was about to go. Despite all that had happened, Tara was still a powerful witch -- and might even have the ability to undo Kennedy's spell. "Yes?"

Slowly, Tara opened the door again. She edged into the hallway, then backed once more into the apartment. "Don't you feel that?" she whispered.

He went to stand beside her, but felt only Tara's presence. "What?"

"Magic. Powerful magic ... it's drifting in the air, like currents."

Now on alert, Richard stepped out and scanned for any signs of noise or movement. "From the band?"

But Tara shook her head. "I think My Chemically Romanced is a symptom, not a cause. There's something going on here much, much more serious than we originally thought." Grabbing Richard's arm, she led him down the hallway. "We'll deal with my problem later. Which is for the best, because if Kennedy appeared before me right now I'd turn her into a toad."

In a flash of light, Kennedy appeared before her.

-#-

Kara, having stopped only long enough to don jeans and her blue Barbie t-shirt, made it halfway to her father's quarters when a glimpse of movement stopped her in her tracks.

It had come from the glass door to the lounge, a large room that looked out over Chicago and held an array of games, as well as an entertainment center. It wasn't at all unusual for someone to be in there, even this late at night; but Kara's slayer intuition tingled, and she sensed something out of kilter. Turning, she moved silently back to the door and peeked inside.

A little girl stood at the far windows, her hands pressed to the glass, staring out at the city. She wore a blue checked gingham dress that struck Kara as old fashioned, along with white silk stockings and black patent leather shoes. Kara couldn't see her face, but between the dress and the girl's shoulder length blonde hair, she seemed familiar. Most familiar was the odd belt the girl wore around her waist, which clashed outrageously with the rest of the outfit. It was well over six inches wide, silver colored, and encrusted with what appeared to be real, multicolored gems.

Kara knew everyone who had reason to be in watcher's headquarters: slayers, watchers, and staff. This wasn't one of them. But she was familiar, and when the girl noticed Kara's reflection in the glass and turned, the slayer felt a shock of recognition.

"Oh, I'm sorry." the girl, who appeared to be about twelve or younger, spoke with a Plains States accent. "I know I should have gone looking for someone, but I've never been this high up before -- isn't the view wonderful?"

"Um ... yeah, I guess it is."

"I've only seen Chicago in pictures. It's sure changed, hasn't it?" The girl glanced toward the far wall, where the names and pictures of all the slayers and their supporters were emblazoned on a wall. "It's a real different world from what I remember."

"How did you get here?" Kara blurted out, her words covering at least two meanings in this case.

"I don't really know." The girl smiled. It was a sweet smile, and Kara reflected that she really did look sweet, just like the books described her. She was slim, and had flawless, pale skin and a pretty face with fine features, and she was impossibly alive. "I was just taking a walk with Ozma, and all of a sudden here I was. That kind of thing tends to happen to me." She sighed, but didn't appear scared or even particularly upset with this turn of events.

"But -- you're not real."

"Why, I sure am!" Then, with a look of consternation, the little girl gave Kara a curtsey. "Oh, I'm terribly sorry. If my aunt and uncle knew how much I forgot to mind my manners, they'd tan me even now -- I forgot the introductions.

"My name is Dorothy Gale."

-#-

"Little man!" Padme put her arm around Andrew and held him upright while she pushed the paper bag against his face. "Breath!"

"No, no, I'm okay." Shaking his head, he pushed the bag away and made a mental note to seal it up in plastic later. "It's Andrew."

"Who's he? A Sith Lord?"

"No -- I'm Andrew, that's my name. The Sith Lord is a guy named Darth Vader, and if I'm right, he's running around Chicago somewhere, looking for you."

"Why?"

"Because I wrote it into a story, and the story seems to be coming true."

"But --" Grabbing Andrew's hand, she held it against her face. "I'm real, Andrew. Can you feel me?"

"Oh, _yeah_," he said, with a dreamy smile.

"Then I can't just be a character in a story."

"Well ..." He was finding it hard to think, with one of Padme's arms around him and the other holding his hand against her warm skin. "Maybe I somehow called you from another dimension, or something. I got hit by black magic, recently -- sort of like the dark side of the Force, only it can hold on sometimes and have strange after effects." Trying to be nonchalant, he moved his hand down toward her neck. Yep --pulse.

"Oh, you poor thing." Padme held him closer, which was, after all, what he had written her to do. "Well, the only thing to do is track down this Darth Vader and vanquish him, so I can go back home and wait for Annie to grow up and get that handsome face and rippling muscles. Then I assume he'll quit the Jedi order and we can retire to Naboo together to ..." She blushed. "Um, learn about each other."

"But -- you'd leave me?"

"Oh, Andrew ... you're really cute, but my future is elsewhere. Besides, I'm sure teenage queens are all over the place in this reality." She gathered him in for a close hug.

"Okay, but ... before we go get help ..." He felt her breasts push against him, and gulped. "Um, do you think we can take a little time first to ... make out?"

She drew back and looked at him. "Make out what?"


	9. Cooking Up a Storm

**Crossover, kind of, with:** Star Wars, the Oz books by L. Frank Baum, and My Chemical Romance. All 14 chapters are complete except for a final go-through.

**Characters**: Tara, Dana, Buffybot, Andrew, Xander; appearances by Giles, Willow and Kennedy, and some surprises. Also an original watcher who is absolutely not, in any way, the author, and three original slayers who have absolutely no connection to anyone I know. Honest. Would I lie?

**Thanks so much to Ainon for her typically great betaing skills! **

All characters who belong to Joss and co, belong to Joss and co.

**-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------**

**Chapter Nine:**

(In which we learn Kennedy's a lousy chef.)

**Cooking Up a Storm**

Willow, Giles, and a black woman who looked vaguely familiar to Richard appeared beside Kennedy, who took a quick glance around, then ran her hands over her body as if making sure she'd arrived in one piece. "God, I hate doing that -- oh. Hi."

"Tara, Richard, hi!" Willow said, a great deal more cheerfully.

But Tara had eyes only for the slayer. She extended an arm, pointing one straight index finger right at Kennedy, and Richard had sudden visions of Kennedy spending the rest of her life in a big glass tank in the lounge. "Tara, no!" He grabbed at her shoulder.

But Tara only yelled, "_You made me real_!"

Everyone froze.

Kennedy cleared her throat. "Um, I thought we were going to keep that a secret."

Willow gasped. "Bloody hell," Giles murmured. The black woman looked from one to another in confusion.

Embarrassed but still angry, Tara lowered her arm. "Why did you do it? Were you trying to keep me from following you and Willow?"

"No! I was just trying to help, I swear!" Then Kennedy shrugged. "The part about your spirit not shadowing us anymore was just a fringe benefit."

"Is this in any way related to why I called on Willow to bring us here?" Giles asked, sounding annoyed.

"What do you mean, real?" Willow demanded.

"Not exactly," Richard told Giles. "But I don't think we're going to be able to put this off. Hello," he added, with a nod to the newcomer.

Kennedy looked away. "I was trying to help Tara be more in contact with the real world, because she wanted to be a better watcher. Then I stumbled on this spell that put spirits into real, physical bodies -- new bodies, not their own."

"Olivia," the dark skinned stranger said, taking Richard's hand. "Rupert invited me ... I'd imagine he's starting to rethink that."

"The timing could be better," Richard agreed.

Kennedy shrugged. "It was, like, supposed to bring a king back to life, or something."

"This is something that happened before that bloody band arrived?" Giles asked.

Willow gasped again. "You used the _Camelot spell_? But that's just a legend!"

"They're pretty good," Richard told Giles. "Although I prefer classic rock."

Tara held her hands up defensively. "I thought it was a legend, too. I just wanted to interact better with the physical plane."

"They're all bloody cookie cutter bands," Giles grumbled, "With no respect for musical history."

Kennedy said, "I found it in a cookbook."

That brought both conversations to an instant halt. "Where did you find this cookbook?" Giles finally asked, in a voice so even and polite it was obvious he was on the point of rage.

"Um, in the storage area behind the magic room. I was just poking around one day, and when I saw it I thought I'd try cooking Willow something, but then this page fell out ..."

Willow rubbed a hand over Kennedy's arm. "Baby, I begged you to stop trying to cook."

"Well --"

"What," Giles intoned, his voice cold, "was the name of this cookbook?"

"Boiling with Thyme, or something like that." Kennedy's brow furrowed. "You English sure boil a lot."

Giles appeared ready to boil even as they spoke.

"Old English?" Richard asked.

"Yeah, it was hard to read, and I didn't end up trying to cook with it. But this one page, the one that fell out, it was as easy to understand as the comics section of a newspaper."

Giles whipped his glasses off and started to rub them furiously. "You weren't reading the words on the page -- the spell called you."

"Uh oh," Willow murmured.

"Called me?"

"Yes, it --" Jamming the handkerchief back in his pocket, Giles waved his hand. "It was one of the untranslated texts, probably recovered just before the original Watcher's Headquarters was destroyed. We'd been too busy to get to it."

Kennedy tilted her head. "It's not a cookbook?"

"They're spells to stave off the effects of time, you bint! That's probably the spell meant to bring King Arthur back to life. Congratulations, you've destroyed the entire bloody legend of the once and future King!"

"Well, how was I supposed to know?"

"You were supposed to keep your hands off -- you don't even like magic!" Giles' face had taken on a decidedly dangerous red hue, but he resisted Olivia's attempt to calm him down. "Don't you see? That's one of the most powerful spells in history, and anything with that much power comes with a price. It's probably because of you that we're dealing with My Chemical Romance. Who knows what other apparitions might be brought to life?"

"Hey, I was trying to do a good deed!" Kennedy had backed up defensively, but now she stamped forward to face the Head Watcher. "I thought Tara couldn't leave because of Willow, and it just didn't seem fair to have her floating around half-alive. Besides, the spell said two true friends of pure spirit, willing to sacrifice themselves, would fend off the bad effects."

"Pure spirit?" Willow repeated.

"Kara and Dana," Richard supplied.

That made Willow shake her head. "But Dana was enslaved by a sexual predator when she was a kid, and tortured -- she spent most of her life doped up in an asylum. How pure could her spirit be?"

"It was about how her spirit is now," Kennedy told her. "Not about what happened to her physically then. Dana was broken so much that her mind rebooted itself, back when the healing spell was used on her."

"The spell told you this?" Giles demanded.

"It did! Although it didn't actually use the term rebooted."

"The spell itself was alive," Willow murmured. "Amazing. Who knows what else might happen because of it?"

A new voice chimed in. "Well, this, for one thing."

Andrew walked toward them, drawing a young girl by the hand. Richard noticed their faces were flushed, and their lips seemed a bit swollen, as if they'd been --

Oh.

Then he took another look at the girl, and for just an instant had to suppress the urge to congratulate Andrew, maybe even give the poor nerd a high five. He didn't know where she'd come from, but Andrew had obviously just gotten to first base with a famous actress.


	10. Revelations

**Crossover, kind of, with:** Star Wars, the Oz books by L. Frank Baum, and My Chemical Romance. All 14 chapters are complete except for a final go-through.

**Characters**: Tara, Dana, Buffybot, Andrew, Xander; appearances by Giles, Willow and Kennedy, and some surprises. Also an original watcher who is absolutely not, in any way, the author, and three original slayers who have absolutely no connection to anyone I know. Honest. Would I lie?

**Thanks so much to Ainon for her typically great betaing skills! **

All characters who belong to Joss and co, belong to Joss and co.

**-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------**

**Chapter Ten:**

(In which things are revealed, which is kinda the definition.)

**Revelations**

Kara was due on guard duty, and she needed to find out what had happened to Dana -- although she suspected her roommate was just wandering around in the halls, in one of those dreams sometimes induced by the memories of former slayers. She'd never done any real harm in those cases, at least not while in the building -- with the memorable exception of the time she'd tried to burn Giles' desk.

But for all her worries, Kara wanted a moment to speak with the little girl who'd proclaimed herself to be Dorothy Gale of Kansas -- her new address being the Emerald City of Oz. So she compromised by talking while heading again down the hallway, and tarrying only a little.

"So the books are real?" she asked Dorothy, while wondering if this Dorothy was real.

"Well, the first ones were. Frank and the others kind of added their own details, but they were mostly true at first. Later they got pretty off the mark, so Ozma decided to break off contact with the rest of the world, and all those other books were made up."

"But if those other books were made up ..." Kara gave the younger girl a suspicious look. "Then how do you know about them?"

Dorothy just laughed. "I meant Ozma decided not to let anyone into or out of Oz anymore; I didn't mean we didn't keep an eye on the outside world. We liked seeing how people were treating Oz with the books and all -- that moving picture with Judy Garland was my favorite." Then her expression darkened. "But some of those people who used us as characters weren't very nice."

"No," agreed Kara, thinking of the graphic novel Andrew had smuggled in, detailing the sexual misadventures of Dorothy, Wendy from Peter Pan and Alice of Wonderland fame. "But I guess you can just be happy where you are."

"I _am_ happy. It's not paradise like Frank made it out to be -- but it's pretty close."

Kara heard voices down the corridor where the older watcher's quarters were, so she drew Dorothy aside before they reached the intersection. "I have to ask just one more thing. The hair ...?"

"Oh!" Grinning, Dorothy pulled on a strand of her blonde locks. "I was brunette, just like in the first book. But Ozma and I got to be good friends, and before she sent me home after our first meeting -- the book with the Nome King?"

Kara nodded.

"He was way nastier than Frank wrote him. Anyway, Ozma made me a princess of Oz and asked if there was anything she could do for me before she sent me back. So I asked to be blonde! You can 'magine the shock on my aunt and uncle's faces."

"I sure can," Kara agreed, remembering the time she'd dyed her hair orange, and her father almost had a stroke.

"Well, that's how Frank and I met. He'd heard this tale of a girl who kept disappearing, and came back the second time with her hair magically blonde -- really blonde, not to mention people didn't dye theirs much in those days -- so he came to see for himself. When he lost his first illustrator, he just had the second one draw me like this." She gave a little pirouette, and Kara was once more hit with a strange feeling, as if she herself had just fallen down a rabbit hole -- to use another book's example.

"Well ... let me do the talking at first. I think I'm handling you being here a whole lot better than the adults will." She led Dorothy around the corner, and was surprised to find not only her father, Tara and Andrew, but Giles, Willow, Kennedy, a black woman whose picture she'd seen on Giles' desk, and a girl she wasn't familiar with, who looked a lot like the actress Natalie Portman. New slayer?

"Um, guys, we've got a problem."

Richard turned, took in their new arrival, and put on a comical expression as if he'd been electrocuted. "My God! Dorothy Gale!"

"How d'you do?" Dorothy gave a polite curtsey.

"From Oz?" Tara and Andrew said together.

"She's blonde," Willow and Giles commented at the same time.

"Who?" Kennedy asked.

Kara stepped forward, preparing to defend the reality of what was before them even though she wasn't sure of it herself. "Okay, I know this sounds strange, but I -- feel -- that this really is Dorothy."

The others nodded, except for the new girl, who regarded Dorothy with interest.

"What -- none of you are going to argue with me?"

Her father shrugged, and gestured toward the new girl. "Kara, I'd like you to meet Padme, who you may know as Queen Amidala of Naboo."

"Huh."

-#-

Richard kept throwing amazed glances at Dorothy and Padme as Giles led them toward the only other known mystery -- the artificially constructed members of My Chemical Romance, who he very much hoped were artificially slumbering away. Although Tara hadn't mentioned it -- possibly to spare the feelings of the two girls -- Richard assumed they, also, were constructs.

But he was more concerned with Dana's disappearance. It had taken on frightening implications, now that the group was getting a clearer idea of just how much magical energy was being released in the building. Threats had to come first, and Dana certainly could be a threat.

"It's possible the new magic's unraveled the healing spell used on Dana," Willow suggested, as they piled into the building's elevator. "There's all sorts of magic in the air, white and dark."

As a group they shifted uncomfortable, remembering tales of what Dana had done before she was made sane.

"How is that connected to all these strange people showing up?" Kennedy demanded, earning protesting noises from Dorothy and Padme.

"I'm not sure it is," Richard told her. "They're characters from stories, and each of the students whose stories was effected got hit by that bolt of black magical energy."

Tara shivered. "I got hit by that bolt -- thanks to being physical --" she shot Kennedy a glare "-- and I wrote about Dracula!"

"But you're not alive, strictly speaking," Giles said. "That may make a difference."

That made Richard think, and he almost shivered, himself. "I hope you're right -- Bottie wrote about an invasion of evil robots."

Tara looked troubled at that. Then, just as the elevator doors opened, she cried out. "Bottie may be alive!"

Everyone stopped. "Who's Bottie?" Padme asked Dorothy, who shrugged.

"What do you mean, alive?" Giles' eyes narrowed dangerously.

"She's been hit by magic -- four times, now? And ever since the second time, when the same spell that healed Dana put the Buffybot back together, they've both been acting very strangely. For one thing, Buffybot sleeps now -- really sleeps, and gets tired if she doesn't. She's been breathing, and sweating, and after that fight outside of Las Vegas last week she was bleeding a little."

"She's designed to mimic all those human actions," Willow protested, as Andrew leaned forward to keep the door open. "If her power level's low she acts tired; if she gets overheated, she breaths to bring in cooler air. The sweating keeps her artificial skin moisturized, and the blood is a lubricant that also colorizes her skin."

"Robot," Dorothy said to Padme, who nodded.

But Tara stubbornly shook her head. "You haven't been spending time with her, Willow -- I have. She's developing emotions, and ... I can't explain it, but she's different."

A sudden thought struck Richard, and he leaned forward to touch Tara's shoulder. As he did he noticed Willow give him an alarmed look, and realized she still felt protective instincts toward her former lover. "Tara -- was Buffybot there when the Camelot spell was used on you?"

Looking worried, Tara nodded.

"You four -- you, Bottie, Kara, and Dana -- have been inseparable. People are even starting to call you the Four Friends. I submit that if Kara's and Dana's willingness to sacrifice themselves was enough to bring Tara back to a form of life, it might have worked on Bottie, too."

They were all silent, digesting that, until Andrew said in a small voice, "Are you saying there could be an army of robots on their way here right now?"

Padme fingered the lightsaber at her side. "This is where I came in."

"Maybe they're on the way to the town on Passions," Tara suggested, earning confused looks from everyone except Richard.

"We'd better find out." Giles finally led the way out of the elevator, then stopped in the lobby, turning to the others. "Willow, would you go to central control? Check the security system, and use the intercom to wake up Xander."

"We still have three dozen slayers sleeping in the building," Richard reminded him.

"Yes ... Have Xander and Clem gather the girls in the gym, and arm them. I don't want them to come into contact with anyone who may have been contaminated."

Nodding, Willow hurried off, and Giles turned to her girlfriend. "Kennedy, if you would, go get the Buffybot and meet us in the hallway outside the new watcher's quarters, where the bandmates are. Since everyone else here is directly connected to this mystery, we should stay together for now."

In other words, Richard thought, he wanted to keep an eye on anyone who might be "contaminated". That was fine with him -- he'd never considered himself a natural leader anyway, so having Giles here to take charge, and a powerful witch as backup, could only be good.

The group finally rounded the corner to the new watchers' quarters, only to find -- nothing. The hallway was brightly lit, but silent and empty.

"Your security isn't terribly impressive," Olivia noted.

"I'm late," Kara muttered, glancing at her watch.

"It doesn't matter," her father told her. "Suzy and Teagan wouldn't have just left. Something's wrong."

"Something _else_," Andrew corrected.

They were standing there, pondering their next move, when the shrill notes of "God Save the Queen" broke the silence. Giles started, then guiltily pulled a cell phone from his pocket and glanced at the display. "It's Willow -- I forgot, the intercom isn't yet set up in this hallway." He put the device on speakerphone.

"Guys, we have even more problems." Even through the small speaker, the redheaded witch sounded stressed. "I checked the security recording -- not only did Dana leave the building, she took Xander and Bottie with her."

"Voluntarily?" Richard asked.

"It looked like it. That's not the worst, though: I used a spell to find Suzy and Teagan. They're not alone."

"Who are they with?" Giles demanded.

"Um ... that's a little hard to explain."

But Richard, who had used the time since Giles took over to consider the entire puzzle, suspected he already knew. He also suspected Giles would be very, very unhappy with the answer.


	11. Friction in Fanfiction

**Crossover, kind of, with:** Star Wars, the Oz books by L. Frank Baum, and My Chemical Romance. All 14 chapters are complete except for a final go-through.

**Characters**: Tara, Dana, Buffybot, Andrew, Xander; appearances by Giles, Willow and Kennedy, and some surprises. Also an original watcher who is absolutely not, in any way, the author, and three original slayers who have absolutely no connection to anyone I know. Honest. Would I lie?

**Thanks so much to Ainon for her typically great betaing skills! **

All characters who belong to Joss and co, belong to Joss and co.

**-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------**

**Chapter Eleven: **

_(In which our cast is brought together, whether they like it or not.)_

**Friction in Fanfiction**

"Left," Dana intoned, gesturing vaguely. Xander turned the van onto another street, in some Chicago neighborhood he didn't recognize, and prayed he was doing the right thing.

"Are we almost there?" Bottie asked again. She bounced in the back seat, excited at the late night drive and the prospect of imminent combat, even though the only thing Dana had told her was that the slayer needed a little assistance saving the world before breakfast.

"Almost," Dana whispered. "Almost time for the black and the white to meet. The game is on again -- isn't it ironic?"

"Um ... sure." He should have told somebody. Gripping the steering wheel, Xander verbally kicked himself for not remembering a cell phone. Dana had already grabbed Bottie when he spotted them while wandering the halls, and if he hadn't hurried to catch up they'd have disappeared, but he still had the feeling he'd made a grave mistake. He'd only stopped trying to talk them out of going when Dana gave him that narrow eyed stare that usually meant she was about to break something.

"I don't know where we are," he finally announced. "I really only know my way from the headquarters to the airports in this town. And a few cemeteries."

"Almost there," Dana said again. "Room to strike, room to sacrifice, room to out."

"Uh huh."

"We're going to save the world again!" Buffybot squealed. "I love being useful!"

Xander drove on, wondering if he was in a Twilight Zone episode or a Three Stooges comedy. This couldn't possibly get any weirder.

"Stop!" Dana screamed.

Stomping on the brake, Xander brought the car to a screeching halt. He looked around, and immediately caught sight of a huge, dark building, maybe large enough for two or three apocalypses. It took him a moment to recognize it, but then he felt his eye bulge out. "You gotta be kidding me."

Dana opened the door and, just before stepping out, turned to her companions:

"Play ball."

-#-

Giles waited for Willow and Kennedy to return with satchels of weapons, before positioning his forces. He had six doors he wanted forced, six rooms cleared at the same time, and after some thought he'd decided to trust not only his magic-contaminated comrades, but even the newcomers to do the job. _The devil you know_, Richard thought. It seemed counterintuitive to secure magical constructs with other magical constructs, but the reason Giles didn't call on the other slayers remained obvious: the Head Watcher was afraid this plague of magic might spread further.

Finally ready, Giles took one last look up and down the corridor, then nodded. "One. Two. Three!"

-#-

Gerard hit a particularly good spot, causing Teagan to cry out loud at the same instant the door crashed open. Startled, the band leader lost his balance and crashed to the floor. Teagan, who by this time could barely move and would expose herself if she did, poked her head over the couch to see Andrew and an unfamiliar young girl invading the room. The girl held a device over her head that emitted a long, green, humming blade, looking frighteningly similar to a lightsaber, while Andrew held a crossbow at ready.

"Get off that girl!" the lightsaber wielding girl shouted, although even as she spoke Gerard was rolling across the floor.

"It was only a back rub!" Teagan yelled, out of fear that her new boyfriend was about to get sliced in half.

"Hands up," Andrew ordered.

Teagan, still prone on the couch, stared at him. If she raised her arms right now, the young watcher would get a glimpse of something that according to current odds he only had a 50-50 chance of wanting to see.

"Not you." Andrew waved his weapon at the rocker. "You."

"Oh, sorry." Climbing to his feet, Gerard raised his hands, which glistened with massage lotion. "She's under eighteen, isn't she? Damn, I need to start carding."

Andrew and Padme exchanged a look, then Andrew lowered his weapon and reached down to toss Teagan her shirt. "Get dressed, we've got work."

When she hesitated, Padme said, "Maybe I should stay with her while she puts her shirt on."

Andrew and Gerard mirrored disappointed expressions. Teagan gestured with her head toward Padme. "Sure, but, um, could you turn off the laser knife?"

-#-

When the door to James Raleigh's bachelor pad burst open he reacted by reflex, scooping up the nearest object and hurling it toward the intruder. Kennedy, also reflexively, brought her broadsword up, but she'd been thinking offense and wasn't prepared for a flying missile.

Just as it reached her, a small hand reached out to grab Kennedy. The object, a heavy glass bowl that had been filled with rice, bounced off the slayer's head without effect. Startled, Kennedy looked down to see Dorothy Gale clutching her arm.

"It's the magic belt, it protects people I touch from harm. I got it from the Nome King."

"I'll bet he didn't want to give it up," Kennedy mused, with an admiring look at the gaudy belt.

"No, he wasn't happy."

By that time James and Suzy had risen from the couch, and James stepped forward with an apologetic look. "Sorry, I was just startled -- having someone break down my door, and all."

"This isn't --" Kennedy took a second look, and her eyes bugged out. "Oh. My. God."

"What's wrong?" James asked, while Suzy turned beet red.

Kennedy couldn't get another word out, but Dorothy rubbed her chin thoughtfully and said, "I think it's the hose and garters. Where I come from, that's a girl's-only thing."

"Oh, right." With a shrug, James headed toward his sleeping area. "If there's some crisis important enough to warrant crashing through my door, I daresay I should don something more suitable."

Suzy just stood there, staring at the floor. "It's a midnight movie," she finally muttered.

Dorothy turned to Kennedy. "He's one of us, um, unreal people, right?" At the slayer's nod, she asked, "Shouldn't you be in there keeping an eye on him?"

"No way in hell."

-#-

By the time clothing had been properly rearranged, the others had staged similar raids and emerged with sleepy, grumbling members of My Chemical Romance. "Dear God," gasped Giles, as he looked at his almost-twin.

"Hello, old chap. Apocalypse time?"

Olivia, who a moment before had looked singularly uncomfortable with a crossbow in her hands, gave James Raleigh a hungry once-over. "Two Rippers. Such intriguing possibilities ..."

"I can explain," Richard and Suzy said together, but Giles held up a hand.

"Later. And in private. For now I'm more interested in why this is happening."

Everyone started talking at once, even the visitors, with some offering theories and other questions, until Giles managed to wave them back into silence. "Come along, all of you, to the classroom. They'll be room for all of us to sit there."

"And have tea?" James suggested. Giles just passed by his counterpart without a word.

It took only a few minutes to get settled, with Giles taking Richard's usual seat at the desk. Richard was content to stand by the door to his office, looking out over what must have been one of the most unusual crowds in history.

"We know that both black magic and white magic have infused the building," Giles began, "and that it apparently has led to the sudden appearance of these, um, visitors."

"A combination of both," Willow agreed. "Usually they kind of cancel each other out."

"Like matter and antimatter," Andrew suggested.

Willow nodded, and while those with more magical knowledge discussed the reasons for why it hadn't happened this time, Richard examined the room as he often did as a teacher. He'd learned the habits of the good and bad students, the trouble makers and the quiet ones, and the cliques. In this case, he noticed the probably unreal people weren't staying together: Padme sat next to Andrew, Dorothy had chosen a seat right in front of Kara, the Giles look-alike who'd been introduced as James Raleigh hovered near Suzy, and the MCR members had formed a cordon around Teagan.

"It's not just why it happened," Kennedy was saying. "What does it mean? Or is there any meaning?"

"The dark magic came from a chaos worshiper, either a demon or a mage," Tara reminded them. "So it could mean nothing at all." Richard noticed she had chosen a seat in the rear corner nearest him, almost as far from Willow and Kennedy as she could get.

"Then what can we do about it?" Kara asked. "Are these people stuck here forever?"

"I have a planet to rule," Padme said.

"And I'd like to get back to Oz," Dorothy added.

Gerard put in, "We have a tour coming up."

James, with a glance at Suzy, shrugged. "I'm quite comfortable here."

It was the stories, of course, Richard thought, as ideas and counter-ideas started flying around the room. Bottie's was the only one of those hit by the magic bolt that didn't have characters coming to life --

Suddenly he straightened, his concern so evident that Giles noticed from the other end of the room. "Richard?"

"Dana's story."

Tara twisted around to look at him. "It hasn't been read yet!"

"Not yet, and it may tell us what's happening with her. Kara, go to my room and grab those stories, they're on the table." She leaped up, and to his surprise Dorothy followed close behind. Richard thought about stopping her, but his gut told him none of these newcomers were truly threatening.

"But what about Bottie's story?" Tara asked. "Is it because she was a robot that the magic hasn't brought its characters to life?"

"Was?" Suzy repeated.

Willow shrugged. "Even if she is more than when she was built, she's still something other than human. That may have stopped her story from coming true, but it won't work with Dana."

When Kara ran back in, Richard grabbed Dana's story from her and started reading. He tried to ignore the others, who waited in an impatient silence, but soon found himself giving a running commentary.

"Dana's story is set here in Chicago, in the present time. It involves a chaos worshipper trying to destroy the city, and how he's helped by ... he paused, skimming down to get to the characters as they were introduced. "Darth Vader ... the Nome King ... and ..."

He looked up at Tara. "Vlad Dracula."

"Dear Lord," Giles and James murmured at the same time.

"The Nome King brings a band of Nomes with him ... little guys, but nasty fighters. Dracula comes with a group of vampire servants, and Vader brings a squad of stormtroopers ..."

"Where do they meet?" Kennedy asked.

"I haven't gotten to that yet," Richard said distractedly.

"Somehow Dana thought she could fend an army like that off by herself?" Kennedy shook her head. "She's gone crazy again."

"Not herself." Richard tried to divide his attention between the story and the people gathered in his classroom. "The Nome King's plan is to draw Dorothy Gale into a trap, and get her magic belt away from her."

"But she can't be harmed with the belt on," Kara protested.

"Not hurt her -- just get the belt." Richard looked up at Dorothy. "Could someone touch you while you're wearing the belt?"

The little girl shrugged. "Sure. As long as they didn't try to hurt me."

"Then they might be able to just hold you down, and remove the belt."

Dorothy's mouth opened, but no sound came out. Clearly she'd never thought of that before.

"But she can make a wish!" Andrew suddenly broke in. "In the books, doesn't it say Dorothy can make one wish a day? She could wish the bad guys back to where they came from!"

But Dorothy, looking embarrassed, shook her head. "I, um, already used today's wish."

"For what?" Willow asked.

"I ... well, the cooks ran out of shortcake for the strawberries, and I kind of, um ..."

A communal groan went up while Richard turned back to the story. After a few more minutes of reading, he nodded approvingly. "Dana didn't forget my instruction, that they should be the central heroes in their stories. She uses a special power to summon all the heroes from the other stories to do battle with the forces of darkness -- along with their real life counterparts."

He looked up to meet the gazes of certain people in the room. "That would be those of you who wrote stories."


	12. A Whole New Ball Game

**Crossover, kind of, with:** Star Wars, the Oz books by L. Frank Baum, and My Chemical Romance. All 14 chapters are complete except for a final go-through.

**Characters**: Tara, Dana, Buffybot, Andrew, Xander; appearances by Giles, Willow and Kennedy, and some surprises. Also an original watcher who is absolutely not, in any way, the author, and three original slayers who have absolutely no connection to anyone I know. Honest. Would I lie?

**Thanks so much to Ainon for her typically great betaing skills! **

All characters who belong to Joss and co, belong to Joss and co.

**-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------**

**Chapter Twelve: **

(In Which the Enemy is Revealed.)

**A Whole New Ball Game**

The lights of Wrigley Field suddenly flared to life, making an already guilty-feeling Xander even more jumpy. From where he stood near the home dugout, he peered around, looking for the robot who had both forced her way into the structure and apparently found the main power switches. If there were alarms, she'd disabled them; he didn't want to think of why they hadn't encountered any security guards.

Xander didn't see her; but as the floodlights began to brighten, he did make out dozens of forms at the edges of the field, holding weapons and waiting in total silence.

Xander swallowed hard.

Standing on the pitcher's mound, Dana held her battle ax at ready, and did a slow spin to identify her enemy. Finally she glanced back at Xander, giving him a leering grin.

"Batter up."

-#-

A light flashed in Richard's eyes, and when he could see again he found himself standing at the edge of a baseball field. His heart thumped hard as he looked around, trying to identify friend and foe. Arrayed in a line beside him were Tara, Suzy, Teagan, Kara, Andrew, Dorothy, Padme, and James Raleigh, along with the members of My Chemical Romance.

Dana stood before them on the pitcher's mound, looking ready for a fight.

"Boy, am I glad to, yada yada yada." Xander moved down the line of newcomers, lugging two heavy canvas bags that he opened to reveal various killing devices. "Take a weapon, any weapon. I knew there must be a reason why she wanted me to bring so many in."

Richard chose a broadsword; anything involving an arrow or bolt was hopeless for him. "I take it we're in trouble."

"It's the bottom of the ninth and the outfield is loaded." Xander gestured with his ax toward the far end of the field, where a line of -- something -- was headed their way.

At one side stalked a dozen or so short, round, completely gray creatures, covered with gray armor and wielding metal pikes. At the other flank, a similar number of vampires, already in game face, were advancing with hungry look. In the middle, a group of soldiers clad head to tow in white armor carried what appeared to be laser rifles.

They moved slowly, apparently confident they faced no challenge. Dana, paying the enemy no more mind than she would a gentle breeze, turned her back on them and approached the new arrivals. "Chaos worshippers suck."

"Where's Bottie?" Xander demanded. "We're way outnumbered here. Is that Queen Amidala and Dorothy Gale? Why is she blonde?"

"Magic dye," Dorothy cheerfully retorted. Much to Richard's surprise, she had picked a short Roman style sword from the bag.

"You have to run." Richard turned to look for exits as he spoke. "If they get that belt from you they plan to use their own first wish to make all the slayers disappear."

"But as long as I keep swinging this they can't touch me without hurting me, can they?"

"Good point."

This was it, Richard thought. He was going into battle with his daughter. The last time he'd fought was a year ago, on a bluff overlooking Lake Superior, when a demon brought dead slayers back to life to do battle against the live ones. Good thing he'd been practicing since then.

"Padme," Andrew called, "Use the lightsaber."

She already had it in her hand, her touch uncertain. "But I don't have the Force."

"You don't need to, it'll slice through anything. As long as you're not up against a Jedi or a Sith Lord, all you have to do is cut up their weapons."

At that moment a long, ominous hiss, familiar to almost everyone from movies and pop culture, filled the stadium.

"Do you already know," Xander said, his voice trembling, "What you said wrong?"

Three beings stalked across the field from different angles, coming together where Dana had stood moments before. One looked just like the rest of the Nomes, except for a battered gray crown on his head. The second was a tall, lean vampire, his face pale and handsome, whose black and red cape billowed behind him. The third was a black clad Sith Lord instantly identifiable by anyone who'd lived on the earth in the late Twentieth Century.

With a hiss, Darth Vader's lightsaber ignited. "If this is the best this puny planet can summon to defend it, the battle will be hardly worth fighting."

"Indeed," the Nome King said, with a cheerful grin. "We should thank Mr. Rayne for giving us this opportunity."

"Rayne?" Xander threw up his hands. "Ethan Rayne?"

"Hello, Mr. Harris!" someone called in a clipped British accent, and they looked up to see a slim middle aged man in the stands behind first base, sitting there with a cup of beer and a box of popcorn.

"Ethan, you worm! You planned this?"

"One doesn't plan chaos, Mr. Harris. One simply unleashes it and lets it flow. Just doing my job."

Richard was taking in the entire field, trying to find an advantage for them. They were outnumbered by maybe three to one, and the Buffybot was nowhere in sight. "Gerard! Can you fight?"

Gerard, who was awkwardly holding a sword, shook his head. "We're a band. And I don't mean Band of Brothers."

_Great_. Dorothy held her sword with some degree of familiarity and had the advantage of being invulnerable, at least for now. Otherwise, their biggest advantage was four slayers -- Padme wouldn't last long against a real Sith Lord, Xander had depth perception problems, and as a fighter Tara was an order of magnitude worse than Richard, which was going some. Andrew ... tried. About James Raleigh, he knew nothing.

They badly needed Giles, Willow, and the other slayers -- but Richard had a feeling that by the time Willow did a locator spell this would be all over.

"Well?" Dana said, staring at Richard.

"What are you looking at me for?"

She rolled her eyes. "You're the key, dummy."

"What do you want _me_ to do, pick out places for us to fall so the memorial has proper feng shui?"

With a sigh, she turned away and moved to stand directly in front of him.

"Take them," Vader ordered, and the three groups of minions started forward.

Turning, Gerard addressed his band members. "Okay, we've got to fight. Give it your all, for Teagan!"

"For Teagan!" the others responded, much to the slayer's embarrassment.

Mikey Way marched forward, waving a sword in wide circles and giving what was probably meant to be a rebel yell. "Let's see how you like _this_ black parade!"

Bringing his weapon to bear, one of the stormtroopers squeezed off a round. A bolt of light hit the bass player in the chest and blasted him backward. He hit the ground unmoving.

"Oh my God!" Teagan screamed. "They killed Mikey!"


	13. Revenge of the Bad Guys

**Crossover, kind of, with:** Star Wars, the Oz books by L. Frank Baum, and My Chemical Romance. All 14 chapters are complete except for a final go-through.

**Characters**: Tara, Dana, Buffybot, Andrew, Xander; appearances by Giles, Willow and Kennedy, and some surprises. Also an original watcher who is absolutely not, in any way, the author, and three original slayers who have absolutely no connection to anyone I know. Honest. Would I lie?

**Thanks so much to Ainon for her typically great betaing skills! **

All characters who belong to Joss and co, belong to Joss and co.

Warning: Character death

**-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------**

**Chapter Thirteen: **

_(In which things go very, very badly for our heroes.)_

**Revenge of the Bad Guys**

"All of you touch me."

Everyone stared at Dorothy.

"Those are guns, right? I'll bet they shoot further than your crossbows do." She took Kara's and Richard's hand, with some difficulty while holding onto the sword. "Everyone I touch will be in-in --"

"Invulnerable," Andrew finished, grabbing Kara's hand. "That way we can get close."

"Or run," Xander returned.

Extinguishing her lightsaber, Padme joined the group, and in seconds the rest of them were clutching hands together -- all except the fallen bass player and Dana, who had advanced a few paces before the rest. "Dana, touch us!" Tara ordered, but the slayer shook her head.

"I know how the story goes," she said.

At that moment the stormtroopers leveled their rifles and opened fire.

Bolt after bolt bounced off everyone it touched, ricocheting around the stadium. A light shattered here, a chair split there; one dissipated into the wall near Ethan Rayne, who looked startled for a second and then chortled with glee. He didn't see what Richard saw: the Buffybot, stealthily working her way down the rows of seats toward the chaos worshipper.

Not a bolt hit Dana, who hefted her ax and started forward.

The others followed. "We need a plan," James Raleigh said in a curiously detached tone, as if he was checking on the weather.

"They'll bleed their blaster charges soon," Padme told him. "When they stop to reload we can jump them."

Andrew and Xander exchanged surprised looks. "Maybe they cut the reloading scenes," Andrew mused, as he stepped forward with the others.

As they got closer, the Nome warriors flung their short spears, to no better effect. Their King had lost his good spirits, and was literally jumping up and down, screaming at his troops. Now without pikes, the Nomes drew short daggers.

This wasn't right, Richard thought. According to Dana he was the key, and he was inclined to believe her. Like all slayers she sometimes got prophetic dreams, and in her case they were stronger and more realistic; it was easy to imagine that she'd seen all this, and based her own story on those visions. But he was the key? What the hell did that mean? For now, they had to play to their strengths. "Tara! We need to thin out those vampires."

From the end of the line, she arched her head back to look at him. "I have to leave the line to do this; I'll stay behind you."

"Stay low!" He turned the other way. "Padme, you have to get Vader's attention. Once he knows it's you, he'll stop fighting."

"What? Why?"

"Trust me! Dorothy, listen closely:" He leaned down to whisper in her ear, and saw a smile spread over her face.

The two lines were about to merge when he made a final decision. "Listen, everyone: Go for the stormtroopers first, while they're reloading! Leave the vamps and Nomes alone."

Just as the groups were about to come together the barrage of laser fire faded, and as one the well drilled stormtroopers reached toward their belts. At that instant Dorothy released the others, jammed her hands into nonexistent pockets on her dress, then leaped forward, holding her clenched fists over her head. "_Eggs_!" she screamed.

The Nomes broke and ran. Directly behind them, their King, who was holding up his arms and shouting, "No eggs!" disappeared under their onslaught.

Tara shoved her way between Gerard and Bob, muttered an incantation, and made intricate motions with her hands. Then she swept her hands outward and balls of fire exploded in the face of the shrieking vampires, leaving only a few behind along with smoldering piles of dust.

Not even bothering with his sword, Bob dashed forward and slammed his drumsticks into the chest of two vamps who were unlucky enough to stagger into each other. "That's for Mikey, you bastards!" Beside him, a screaming Gerard took off a vamp's head.

The third group fared little better, as the stormtroopers fell under concentrated crossbow fire, followed directly by swinging swords and axes. Dana gleefully swung her battle ax, with such abandon that no one else dared get close to her.

Richard had always been amazed at how ineffective the stormtroopers' so-called armor was, and he wasn't disappointed this time: He swung his sword and brought one of them down instantly, then went after another who was trying to reload, taking that one out with two quick blows. Their protection wasn't made for hand to hand combat, that much was certain.

Then it was over, and Richard stood over the body of someone he hoped wasn't real, taking measure of their success. Xander and Suzy were both down, looking dazed, while Teagan sat on a stormtrooper and used her hand to staunch the flow of blood from a cut to her thigh. He had a moment of panic when he saw Tara cross-legged on the ground, but she appeared unhurt, and was either recovering from her fire spell or trying to contact Willow. Otherwise they were all standing, while the stormtroopers were all down and the vamps dusted. The Nomes were creeping back onto the field, trying to avoid Dorothy, but the bigger challenge lay right in front of them.

Darth Vader stepped forward, lightsaber swinging. James finished reloading his crossbow and sent a bolt with deadly accuracy, but the laser sword sliced it in two. Then Andrew tried, but just as the bolt reached Vader, the Sith Lord raised a hand and it streaked back to its source. Andrew stood with a comical expression on his face, staring at the bolt now buried in his shoulder.

At the same moment the remaining members of My Chemical Romance rushed Vader, but he spun around with supernatural speed, using the Force to lift Gerard off the ground and crash him into his bandmates. They tumbled to the earth and lay still, while behind them the Nomes joined the fight again.

As this was happening, Kara and Dana rushed Dracula. He turned, his gaze locked with Kara, and she jerked to a stop, in his thrall. Dana continued, but the lord of darkness was too fast, and grabbed her by the throat. Choking, Dana struggled, unable to break his grasp even as he moved toward Kara.

"I don't think so." Richard rushed forward, sword held over his head. He saw a flash of red light above him, and the weight of the weapon suddenly lightened; he brought it down to discover the blade missing.

Vader held the lightsaber to Richard's neck. "We cannot kill you, not yet. But you will surrender your forces, or we'll remove your limbs."

_Can't kill me?_ Through the cold terror, Vader's words reverberated. Why couldn't they kill him? His gaze searched out Padme, but she was staring at Vader from the edge of the field, looking just as frightened as he felt.

"Hey, evildoers!"

Everyone turned. Ethan Rayne was on his feet now, and the Buffybot stood behind him, one arm around his chest and the other holding a sword to his throat. "Give it up, or the chaos guy gets it!"

Vader's massive helmet turned, to look at Dracula, who returned the look with an expression of scorn. "We have no need of that pawn," the vampire said. "He gathered us on this battlefield, but he isn't responsible for bringing you to this world, or bringing me back to life."

Ethan blinked. "I wasn't?"

Dracula laughed. "That chaos demon you summoned was blindly trying to create a disaster. It never realized what the effects of its defensive spell would be, before it fell beneath Vader's blade."

"Bloody hell, you killed my chaos demon?"

Vader nodded. "Do as you wish with him, slayer -- it's the little girl's belt that we need."

"Oh, poo." Bottie hammered the hilt of her sword on Rayne's head, dropping him like a bad investment.

_And they need me,_ Richard thought, his mind reeling as he tried to sort out the reasons. Then Vader was flung backward, by a blow that caused the Sith Lord to cry out as sparks flew from his life support equipment. Kara had scored a hit with one of the Nomes' dropped knives, and now she twirled into a side kick that took Dracula down before he could use his thrall on her again.

"Fight!" Dracula ordered the Nomes, but the little men still held back.

"Dorothy's eggs --" one protested. "They're deadly poison to us."

"I will take care of the girl." Climbing to his feet, Vader raised his hand and gestured upward. Dorothy sailed into the air. She squealed and dropped the sword, using both hands to try to maintain her dignity as her skirt billowed twenty feet above the ground. "Give us the belt, Dorothy Gale, or we will kill all your friends."

"You'll kill 'em anyway!" Dorothy shouted back.

"So be it." Vader gestured to the Nomes. "I will hold her and her eggs. Kill all but Richard Philips."

James Raleigh went down first, fighting furiously as the wave of Nomes reached him. Suzy and Teagan dragged themselves to their feet when the Nomes got to them next, and were joined by Kara, then a whooping Bottie. It was no good: the Nomes were ferocious, and seemingly felt no pain.

_Why was Richard so vital to the plan? He hadn't written the stories; he'd only assigned them and read them._

"Vader."

Darth Vader was using the Force to send little Dorothy slamming into the ground over and over again, leaving the girl unharmed but shrieking in rage. But at the sound of a new voice he jerked around, and Dorothy fell heavily.

Padme approached him, holding the lightsaber out before her. "I'm ..." Her voice shook. "I'm a Jedi Knight. Surrender or die."

Vader stared at her. Then, in a move that made her jaw drop, he lowered his own lightsaber. "Padme?"

Again, Richard scanned the battlefield. Dorothy had climbed unsteadily to her feet, and was waving her empty fists again in an attempt to scare off the remaining Nomes. There weren't many left now, although the Nome King was going from fallen Nome to fallen Nome, kicking and screaming for them to get up. He didn't see Dorothy approach until she spun him around and slapped him hard on the face.

There weren't many people left standing now, at all. Kara was still up, back to back with Bottie, fending off the attacking Nomes. But Dracula had just shaken off an attack by the now still Xander, and was stalking toward the slayer and the robot.

Tara lay on her back near home plate, staring unblinkingly toward the darkened sky.

"Who -- who are you?" Padme demanded.

"Padme ... I came back for you." Vader extinguished his lightsaber and approached the Queen of Naboo, although she kept her own weapon held at ready.

"Came back?"

"It's me -- Anakin."

Padme stared at him, her breath coming in stilted gasps. "Annie?"

Behind him, Richard heard a low, almost feral voice. "Their story's almost over."

He spun around to see Dana, still holding her bloodstained battle ax. "She won't be able to take it," Dana said. "She won't be able to stand the thought of her love becoming a Sith Lord and killing so many people. The story ends here."

"The story ends?"

Dana nodded. "I didn't have time to finish it. The rest came too fast."

A lightsaber hummed, and a female voice cried out in agony. By the time Richard turned, Darth Vader's body was on the ground. His helmeted head rolled across the ground, then lay still.

Padme, tears streaking her face, looked around until she saw Andrew lying nearby, unmoving. "He didn't tell me." She saw Richard looking at her, and repeated, "He didn't tell me."

"He didn't want to hurt you." In the distance, he saw Dracula grappling with the Buffybot. He couldn't see his daughter.

"Hurt me?" She gave a short laugh that turned into a sob. "This was all because of me!" Then she twisted the still lit lightsaber around in her hand.

"No!" Richard shouted, but it was too late. Padme's body fell, right beside the similarly still body of Tara. Who blinked.

"Tara!" He hurried to her, and only then saw the Nome dagger protruding from her chest. "Tara?"

Her gaze moved to him, and she sent him a weak smile. "You know ... irony? This is right where I got shot."

Richard fell to his knees by her side, and instantly saw he could do nothing. "Did you ... did you get help?"

"Mmmmm ... not enough time. Willow and I, we don't have the connection we once did." She drew a ragged breath. "You know what? I think I know why I did all those things ... touched you, drank tea ... I think I wanted you to know I wasn't just a spirit anymore."

"_No_. Tara, don't --"

"Now I'll be a spirit again, I guess. But you ... I could have ..." She closed her eyes, and her chest stopped moving.

"No." Something almost metallic clattered to the ground, and across the field a tall, black caped figure started moving toward him. "No."

"There's not much time," Dana said.

Cold clutched Richard's heart as he got to his feet, looking around for a weapon. Dana touched his shoulder, but he shook her off. "So that's how your story ended? Everyone dies?"

"I told you, I didn't finish it." She grabbed him, using her slayer strength to spin him around. "My story's still unwritten."

"Well, this looks like the end to me!"

Her reply was a frustrated sigh. "I didn't know it was going to come true --that's your fault."

"_Me_?" He gazed around wildly, trying to reconcile this to anything he could have come up with. In the distance, Dorothy stood still, her hands limply at her side, staring into Dracula's eyes as he reached down toward her waist.

"They didn't start coming true until you read them."

It hit him then, harder than any weapon. The reason Bottie's story hadn't come to life was because _he never read it_. Only Tara did. But why hadn't Dana --?

The slayer was staring at him, her eyes pleading.

She hadn't warned him because he'd begun to read her story, setting it in motion -- but hadn't finished. Only now, as it neared the end, could she act freely again.

"Dana -- write me a story."

She jerked the knife from Tara's chest with a sound Richard would never forget, then fell to her knees, poised with its tip over the dusty ground. How much time did they have? Looking back, he saw Dracula had removed the belt, and was just starting to sink his teeth into the little girl's bare neck. In a moment, he'd put the belt on himself, and have his own wish.

_No time._

"Dana, write this:"


	14. Worst Ending Ever

**Crossover, kind of, with:** Star Wars, the Oz books by L. Frank Baum, and My Chemical Romance. All 14 chapters are complete.

**Characters**: Tara, Dana, Buffybot, Andrew, Xander; appearances by Giles, Willow and Kennedy, and some surprises. Also an original watcher who is absolutely not, in any way, the author, and three original slayers who have absolutely no connection to anyone I know. Honest. Would I lie?

**Thanks so much to Ainon for her typically great betaing skills! **

**Also, thanks to my reviewers, screaminheathen69, Son Of Evil, McFarfetch, Lalalina, Francis Eugene, and Winged Seraph, and for everyone else who's reading. For lalalina: The question of what a male Mary Sue should be called remains unanswered -- I've found half a dozen variations, none with an official origin. I hope I've thrown some twists and turns at everyone -- hopefully entertaining ones.**

All characters who belong to Joss and co, belong to Joss and co.

**-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------**

**Chapter Fourteen: **

(In Which our hero tries to make it all a dream.)

**Worst Ending Ever**

Richard opened the door to the cafeteria and took a hesitant step inside. Despite going from room to room the night before, he held his breath until he'd again accounted for everyone, this time making sure they were awake and talking. More or less.

"I had the weirdest dream last night." Teagan limped as she carried her tray to one of the breakfast tables, and raised her voice to be heard over the babble of other slayers.

"I assume it was about My Chemical Romance," Suzy teased, taking a seat beside her. "But does it have anything to do with why you're limping?"

"That's the strange part! I dreamed I got hurt in a fight, and when I woke up, I was sore in the same place where I got hurt. Is that weird, or what?"

The other girls at the table generally agreed it was weird. One suggested she mention it to Giles. At the sound of the Head Watcher's name, Suzy turned beet red and looked around guiltily; but in the end she shook her head and let it go.

Richard watched them for another moment, while mechanically taking a tray. He gave Clem a nod of thanks and moved away from the serving line, wandering aimlessly among the tables. Everything seemed so ... normal.

Andrew and Xander sat together: While Xander kept up a one sided conversation about some reality show he'd seen the previous night, Andrew shoveled his food in mechanically, not looking at Xander or anyone else. Richard wondered if he should talk to him, but he was pretty sure Andrew was simply reconstructing the previous night's weird nightmare in his head, and didn't need to know anyone else had experienced the same dream.

The door to the hallway burst open and Willow swept through, taking the room in with one sweeping gaze. Several people called out greetings, but her wide-eyed, rather panicked look kept anyone from approaching. Only Richard moved her way.

When she saw him, Willow hurried to his side. "Are you okay?"

"Why wouldn't I be?"

"Well, you dissap --" She examined him critically. "Um, did you have any -- strange dreams, last night?"

Resisting the urge to burst into hysterical laughter, Richard nodded. "It was a restless night in the building. I thought you were in England?"

"Oh, um, we're done. Once we were clear of the poltergeist I picked up some weird mojo coming from here in the building, really powerful stuff."

From the mission in Missouri. Tara picked it up to, but I don't think she remembers talking about it. Things got kind of surreal last night."

"I'll say." Willow looked past him, toward where he knew Tara was sitting with Kara, Dana and Bottie. "Looks like we got a do over," she murmured, obviously talking to herself. "Too bad that doesn't happen more often."

Not trusting himself to speak, Richard shrugged.

"Well ... I guess the magic in the air just messed with everyone's subconscious. I'll have it cleared up by lunch --"

"You'll want to talk to a gentleman named Ethan Rayne."

Willow gave him a sharp look. "I thought the government had him locked up?"

With an ironic smile, Richard shook his head. "Some people from the ACLU got him released, because the government couldn't come up with any official reasons for holding him for so long; apparently they did a poor job of doctoring their legal documents." He'd spent the rest of the night, after waking up covered in sweat in his own bed, doing research.

"I'll have that cleared up by lunch, too." Willow's tone was determined. "So, um ... everyone's all right, then?" She was looking past him again.

"She's real, Willow."

That jerked the witch's attention back to him. "The Camelot spell. I don't remember much, but I remember that. What happened after you vanished?"

"It was all a dream. That's what everyone thinks, anyway. Cliché, I know, but it's the best way for some stories to end."

She held his gaze for another moment, then nodded. "Guess I've got some work to do."

Richard looked down at his tray, wondering again why he'd bothered to get breakfast, then cleared his throat. "Willow, one more thing. Giles has a sometimes girlfriend in England -- what's she like?"

"Oh, Olivia? She's really nice, and level headed -- she and Giles had some problems when she visited Sunnydale, but she handled finding out what he did for a living a lot better than most people would. She even helped us out with the poltergeist thing."

"Did you know she has a teaching license?" He'd done a lot of research the previous night.

"No ..."

"If you would, check with Giles. See if she might be interested in coming here, to help with the younger slayers. I'd like to do some more field work."

"Sure. I'll ask." Looking bemused, Willow waved and turned toward the exit. Richard glimpsed a puzzled looking Kennedy in the hallway, just before the door closed. "Be happy together," he murmured.

He turned, intent on dumping the tray in the trash, only to find himself facing a young slayer, her long dark hair uncombed, who looked like she'd just dragged herself out of bed. "You're not hungry." Dana carried a glass of orange juice.

"No." He held out the tray. She took it, and handed him the juice.

"Thanks for ending the story."

"It ... was a very clichéd ending."

Dana smiled, something he rarely saw. "I like to pretend bad things were just dreams. Then I can concentrate on the good things."

"You're acting particularly sane today, Dana."

"Come on." Holding the tray with one hand, she took Richard by the arm and led him to the table where Kara, Tara and Bottie sat. He wanted to resist -- he didn't want to face anyone, right now -- but could think of no good reason not to take a seat with them.

"You look like hell," Kara said the moment she spotted her father. She clamped a hand over her mouth, eyes wide.

"I didn't sleep well," he told her, letting the curse go. After all, she was alive -- what was a four letter word or two?

"I didn't either," Kara said. "I had the weirdest dream last night. Dorothy Gale was in it." To the others she added, "Dad had a crush on her when he was a kid."

"She'd be over a hundred now," Richard mused. Then he locked eyes with Tara.

"Did you have any dreams last night?" she asked quietly.

He took a drink of orange juice, buying time.

"Some say," Dana intoned, "Dreams are a window to another reality." Without another word, she started eating Richard's meal.

"I had a dream," Buffybot announced. "Spike and I were on Passions -- the vampire Spike, not the Passions Spike. And we were fighting robots."

"Isn't that what your fanfiction was about?" Richard asked her, while mentally reminding himself not to read the stories again until Willow was done cleansing the building.

Tara frowned, as if trying to remember something.

"Yes, it was!" Buffy cried. "Have you read it already?"

"Not all of it. But that's probably what caused the dream -- that, and maybe some of that black magic you all got blasted with last week. Who knows what a combination of magic and imagination could do?"

"True ..." Tara mused. "It could even affect people who weren't hit directly." Then, as if deciding to change the subject, she gave a wave of her hand. "Richard, have you ever written a Mary Stu?"

"Oh, yes, when I was very young. It's nice to be able to write a story in which you taked charge of your own destiny."

"Well," the witch spirit said, with a teasing grin, "Did you beat the bad guys, and get the girl?"

"I beat the bad guys." He remembered sending Dorothy Gale back to Oz, and returning to his own home in Indiana, a ten year old hero. "But sometimes ..."

He looked away. "Sometimes you don't get the girl."

**END**


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